What You Love is Ripped Away
by Meloncholy
Summary: He wanted nothing more than to walk into the room and rip each of them apart, feeling immense pleasure as he tore away at their skin, rendering them helpless and almost unrecognisable as the floor around turned a sickening shade of red...
1. Rapid Hope Loss

Okay this is my second Supernatural fic, and hopefully this will be much better than my first fic, **Highway to Hell**. Though if you haven't read that, please check it out :) This fic is going to be a lot more angst-y and emotional, and hopefully much better in general when compared to my other fic.

Disclaimer - again, i don't own anything to with Supernatural or anything else mentioned in this fic - though i'm working on it!

Please read and review, and hopefully you'll like it:D

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Chapter 1

Blood. That was all he could see. It was everywhere, on the walls, the floor, the bed. There seemed to be too much blood for one person, too much blood for two people even, yet there had only been one person in the room. His gaze was drawn to the bed. This was where he'd left her and this was where he thought he was going to find her again. But all that was left was blood. The white sheets on the bed were now crimson, with only a few white patches left in sight.

He should've known better than to leave her, after everything that had happened the year before. They'd only gone out for an hour to shoot pool, she should have been fine, dammit. Nothing was hunting them anymore, tormenting them and watching their every move. They'd put a stop to that, even if the price of it was losing one of their own. So she should have been fine, asleep and innocent in her bed, _their_ bed.

He should've known the happiness wouldn't have lasted. It was too good to be true. They were all getting on so well and life seemed to be getting better. Even though the demon that had tormented them for over twenty years was finally gone, they had carried on hunting. It was their life, whether they wanted it to be or not. Deep down, he knew that the Winchesters would never settle down, not properly. No matter how hard they tried, they couldn't get rid of their hunter's instincts. A normal life was something they both secretly longed for, but no life they led would ever be completely normal. There would always be something hanging over them, something that would stop them from being completely safe.

Yet over this past few months, he had started to think that maybe life wasn't so bad after all. For the first time in years, or possibly since he was a kid, he had started to feel like he truly belonged. He had begun to feel safe, not completely, but he had been getting there. And she had been the reason for this. She was the one who had pulled him through, after everything. He hated to admit it, but he doubted he'd be here without her. She was like him in every way; confused, alone and vengeful. Her family had suffered at the hands of the demon too and she more than knew how he felt.

The life they'd led afterwards, after the incident, had been as close to idyllic as a Winchester's life could be. Of course there had been grief, but that was to be expected. Their father had died at the hands of the demon, died to save his sons lives and the life of a girl who he had been beginning to see as his daughter. He could still hear his Dad's last words resounding in his head, and it was these that haunted his dreams at night. She could look after him in the day time, but he was alone when it came to his dreams. Sometimes she was in them, but it wasn't the girl he had come to care for, even love.

Love wasn't a word he thought he'd ever hear himself say, but that was the only word he came up with when her thought of her. He'd tried his hardest to fight it, but that had only made it worse. He really believed that their family was cursed. Every woman the Winchester men had ever loved, had died at the hands of the demon. Mum, Jessica; they'd died because of their involvement with them. Even though she knew about the demon and had nearly died because of it, he was still reluctant to be with her. He had always found it hard to talk about his feelings, to be himself, but she just managed to coax it out of him. Whether he wanted her to or not.

Now the thought of her lying seriously injured or even dead, spurred him into action. He wouldn't let this happen, not to her. She was one of the people he'd be willing to give his life for, and the thought of not being able to protect her was killing him. He didn't know what he'd do if she was dead. Sure he'd have his brother, but to lose the only person he'd ever loved? Losing his Dad had been traumatic enough, and he'd sworn he would never lose anyone close to him again.

Frantic now, he walked around the bed and followed a trail of blood that led towards the en suite. His thoughts were still fixed on her, silently pleading for her to be alive. He knew deep down that she was probably dead, but he wouldn't accept it. Not until her saw her with his own eyes.

Opening the bathroom door, he gasped as her saw her lifeless body lying on the floor. Her body looked so small and fragile and was covered in blood. It was then that he ran to her and held her close, sobbing as he stroked her hair and checked for any signs of life. He couldn't find a pulse, yet he refused to give up. He looked down at her chest, and was shocked to see it rising and falling. Only slightly, but it was enough. He laughed, relieved and pulled her even closer, hearing her taking short, gasping breaths. The sound of breathing had never sounded so good.

He checked her for injuries, but she was so covered in blood that he couldn't tell whether she was badly hurt or not. Thought what he could tell was that the demon wasn't back. Their father hadn't died in vain. Something else had come for her, but he couldn't be sure what is was, and right now, he didn't care. Right now, all Dean Winchester cared about was the girl bleeding to death in his arms.


	2. Dreaming of You

Chapter 2

The ambulance ride had been a blur, and now sitting in the hospital, Dean could barely remember anything from the last few hours. The hospital staff were being the same as always; secretive and immersed in their own thoughts, most only thinking of their plans for the weekend instead of how lost and neglected friends of the injured feel.

Which pretty much summed up Dean's feelings right now. Since they arrived in the hospital over three hours ago, he'd been stuck in his own personal nightmare, a plethora of mixed thoughts running through his head. Past conversations and disturbing images of people he knew were on a constant loop, and it took all of his power not to cry out or show any sign of emotion at all. Everyone he'd spoken to, the paramedics, even Sam, had given him _that_ look. The sympathetic, patronising look that said it was alright to break down, to cry. But he couldn't break down, not now. He needed to be strong for her, because she'd need him more than ever when she woke up. Even though deep down he knew it was possible, he still refused to acknowledge the fact that she may not wake up at all.

He shifted on the uncomfortable hospital chairs and glanced around the waiting room. It was empty except for him and Sam, who had fallen asleep on one of the seats opposite and was currently snoring loudly. Dean smiled despite how he felt, glad that Sam could finally sleep easy without being plagued by nightmares, and even his visions had ceased to torment him as they had done before the incident.

His frowned and his thoughts began to drift back to that day nearly eighteen months ago, the last time they'd see their father truly happy, or as happy as a Winchester could be with the weight of a demon on his shoulders. The day had started off perfectly, almost like a family vacation twenty years too late. Then their father had gone and spoilt it all by walking out of their lives again.

_The accident was six months behind them and Dean had finally started to feel good again, the aches and pains having finally died down. To celebrate having everyone back to full health, John Winchester had suggested a day out a local theme park. The boys had been so shocked at this sudden suggestion, they had taken him up on it without any second thoughts. _

More fool us, Dean thought, leaning his head back against the cool plaster of the hospital walls. We should've known it was too good to be true, that he was just softening us up for the final blow.

_The day at the theme park was refreshing, a chance to be a real family for a change and just enjoy each other's company. Talking about demons and spirits was strictly off limits and so instead they talked about normal things, glad for the opportunity to avoid talking about the accident. Yet despite all this, Dean couldn't help but think that something like this would have served them much better when they were kids, instead of Dad going hunting every chance he could. _

_After the theme park, John took them to a bar around the corner from their motel and consequently left them there not long after, claiming "he needed a shower but would be back later." _

_He and Sam sat in the bar for over two hours, chatting and drinking their way through a few beers before they realised John wasn't coming back. They downed their beers quickly and headed back over to the motel, shocked to find John loading his bags into his truck. _

_"Dad?" _

_John jumped at the sound of Sam's voice, turning around slowly with a sheepish expression on his face. _

_"What are you doing?" He had asked, the shock and upset evident in his voice. _

_John sighed, running his fingers through his hair and looking clearly upset and distressed. _

Even now, Dean could still see that look on his father's face. It was a look he had seen before, and he knew what it meant without John ever having to say a word.

_"You're leaving again, aren't you?" _

_John nodded, his fingers twitching nervously at his jacket collar. "I'm so sorry, but I have to." _

_"Why?" Sam asked, a hurt expression on his face, reminding Dean very much of the little kid he once was. _

_"You're going back after it." He stated, folding his arms across his chest and looking at his father with a look of pure disappointment. _

_John nodded again, turning to one of his bags and pulling out a manilla envelope. "I didn't want to leave you, not after last time. But I have to find this thing and end it once and for all. It's dangerous for us all to be together right now, so you'll be safer without me. You have to understand, this is for the best." _

_Sam looked as though he was going to say something, but bit his lip at the last minute and seemed content in throwing evil looks at their father instead. _

_"Dad, you can't do this." _

_"I can and I will, Dean. It's the only way. Do you want to find the demon that killed your mother?" _

There he'd gone again, playing the emotional card and appealing to Dean's vengeful side. He'd faltered at this, really wanting to believe that letting his father go off again would be a means of finishing this once and for all. In a way, it had been in the end, thought it hadn't ended quite the way John had hoped. It hadn't ended in the way _any_ of them had hoped. This had been the last time they would see their father before that final showdown, and Dean would always regret hating him on this last day. He had spent most of those six months in emotional turmoil over the hurtful things his father had said to him, and this last sentence had seemed like icing on the cake. Nothing John said after that really mattered to him, and he only went along with Sam's pestering to keep up the good son act. He had tried so hard not to hate his father, even after everything, but this just took him to breaking point. If only he had known what would happen six months down the line, maybe he would've tried harder to persuade John to stay.

Both he and Sam had tried their hardest to persuade their father to stay, even threatening to go with him. But John being John, he'd put his foot down and stood his ground. Sam had even threatened violence, but nothing could change John's mind. Finally both of them had resigned themselves to months of worry and caved in to their father's request. It was only when they had agreed, that John finally gave them the manilla envelope he was guarding so closely.

_On top of the envelope, John had written a pair of co-ordinates. This struck Dean as odd, surely he could have just told us where to go? He looked up to question John, but it seemed that his father already knew what was coming. _

_"Don't, please. Trust me on this." _

_"Trust you on what? Dad what is this?" Sam was very confused, looking pleadingly at his father. _

_"Look at the front page." _

_He pulled out the first page from the envelope, shocked to see the picture of a young girl with light blonde hair tied back and sparkling blue eyes staring back at him. "Who is she?" He asked, looking questioningly at his father._

_"Her name's Madolyn… Maddie. I saved her life when she was a baby and the last time I spoke to her was when that picture was taken… she was only four." John trailed off, looking sadly at the piece of paper in his son's hand. "She's twenty two now and probably more than capable of taking care of herself, but I think she's in trouble. Or if she isn't, she will be. You need to find her and protect her."_

_"Protect her from what?" He'd scanned the first page for clues but came up with nothing to suggest why their father cared so much._

_"I haven't got time to explain, but it's all in that file, I promise."_

And just like that, he had walked out of their lives yet again. He had kept in contact, albeit not very often. He used to ring them every month like clockwork to check in, and that was the only chance they had to speak to him. Not that they had ever said much. The closeness they had all felt on that last day had disappeared completely and they instead started to speak in clipped, formal tones, barely sounding like family at all.

Dean shifted in his seat again, glancing up at the clock on the wall, shocked to see only fifteen minutes had passed. His attention didn't hold for long though, and his thoughts landed on her again, and how her whole life had been revealed to them on a few sheets of paper. Dad had been right about something, everything they needed to know was in that file. Everything and more. The more him and Sam read, the more shocked and disturbed they had become. They thought they'd had it bad when their mum had died, but she could beat that hands down. Her whole family had been butchered by _the_ demon, and she was orphaned at the age of only six months

This had spurred them on to find her as quickly as possible, and this was what kept him going right now, the urge to protect her from all that was bad in the world. He failed once, well more than once, to protect her before and he didn't want to risk losing her, especially not after his father risked his own life to save her, a baby he didn't even know.

Sam stirred in the corner, and Dean glanced over at him, looking worried. He's probably feeling as bad as I do right now, Maddie's almost like a sister to him. They got on really well, both being nearly the same age and having the same interests. Early on he had been worried that Maddie liked Sam more than him and had even plucked up the courage to ask her about it, but she had soon put him right.

He smiled to himself, remembering their first night together and how happy he had been the next day and the rest of that week, even month. He could remember the first time they met, her a feisty blonde who-

He broke off his thoughts when he heard footsteps approaching, looking up to see the smiling face of a nurse in surgical scrubs.

"Mr Winchester?" She asked, smiling tentatively.

He jumped up, trying his hardest to return her smile but failing miserably. "Yes, that's me. How is she?"

"They still haven't finished surgery yet, but she's stable."

"Is she going to be alright?" He was rubbing his hands together nervously, and kept eyeing the doors the nurse had come out of.

She paused for a second, and little did she know that a pause was worth more than a thousand words. His heart sank, and something must have registered on his face as she grabbed his hand and smiled reassuringly at him. "Don't worry, she's stable and no change is sometimes good. We won't know for sure how she's doing until they've finished the surgery."

He nodded, smiling weakly as she left him to return to the surgery. He tried to be positive, but that sinking feeling in his heart just wouldn't go away. He knew the nurse was probably right, but the specks of blood on her scrubs had done little to aid his uneasiness. He thought, surely no change is better than a change for the worse? Right?


	3. A Beautiful Lie

Chapter 3

Another three hours later and the boys will still waiting for news. Dean had taken to pacing up and down the corridor, while Sam had woken up and was currently flicking through their father's journal, looking for leads. Neither of them said much, Dean too involved in his memories and Sam too immersed in his quest for the thing that had caused all this.

"Find anything?" Dean finally asked, turning and leaning against the wall opposite his brother.

"A few maybes, but nothing that stands out. We won't know much until we can check out the scene…" Sam trailed off, regretting mentioning anything that could set Dean off. "Look, Dean-"

"Just don't Sam, please. Not now." He held his head in his hands, and Sam couldn't help but notice he had looked exactly like this the day Dad had died. "If you want to go back to the room, then go. But I'm staying here."

Sam sighed, knowing that he'd never be able to get any rational ideas out of Dean in this state. "I'll go, but only when I find out that Maddie's okay."

Dean nodded and began pacing up and down again, hands in his pocket and his head down. Sam was taken aback by his brother's silent, barely responsive state and knew that whatever he said would never comfort him quite as much as finding out that Maddie really was going to be alright.

The next hour passed very slowly, and neither of them could keep still. After a while, Dean stopped pacing and sat down on the floor, then changing to lie across the seats when the floor became too uncomfortable. Sam tried his hardest to concentrate on his father's journal, but his mind kept wandering and he'd read one sentence at least ten times before realising that it just wasn't going in.

Five minutes later, Sam looked up and realised Dean had fallen asleep, snoring lightly with his head resting awkwardly against one of the arm rests. He looked exhausted, having been up for more than twenty four hours, and Sam thought it was about time he got some rest. It wasn't as though he'd miss out on anything, as knowing the surgeons, they'd be another few hours sat least.

Turning back to the journal, he spent the next few minutes skim reading a page on vengeance demons until he was distracted by the doors swinging open again. A surgeon, he could tell that just by the way he walked, made his way over to them and Sam jumped up straight away. Famous last words, he thought, looking over at Dean as he began to struggle with what to do; wake his brother up and let him face the news first hand, or leave him to sleep and face hearing Maddie's fate from his younger brother. This miniature war raged inside of him for only a few seconds, and as the surgeon took Sam's hand in his own, he finally made up his mind.

"Mr Winchester?"

Sam nodded, and as the surgeon smiled happily at him, he knew he'd made the right choice. Little did he know that this would turn out to be one of the worst decisions of his life.

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Dean woke up not long afterwards, and nearly jumped out of his skin when he realised Sam was sat right next to his head and smiling down at him. "Dude, would you quit staring like that? It's giving me the creeps." It seemed as though he'd forgotten where he was, but then he caught sight of his dull hospital surroundings and everything came rushing back to him. "What is it? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong." Sam smiled at him again, and Dean started to glare at him suspiciously. "She's out of surgery."

"What do you mean, nothing's wrong? Are you- SHE'S WHAT?" He jumped out of his seat as though Sam had electrocuted him.

"She's out of surgery." Sam repeated, grinning openly at him.

"Since when?"

"Just under an hour ago I think. The surgeon came out while you were asleep." Sam smiled again, earning himself a punch on the arm from Dean. "Ouch! What was that for?"

"For not waking me up earlier, jerk." He started pacing around again, looking at Sam expectantly. "Dude?"

"What?"

"Are you not going to tell me where she is? Or shall I just walk round the hospital until I find her?"

"Oh right, sorry." Sam stood up and smiled apologetically. "Her room's down this way." He walked over to a corridor on their left, and indicated for Dean to follow him. He led Dean down to the ICU and stopped outside a room on their right. "This is it, Room 3500." He leant against the wall next to the door, and waited for his brother to go in.

"You not coming?" Dean asked, pausing as he reached for the door handle.

"Nah, I figured I'd go and check the room out after all, before everything gets moved about."

Dean smiled and nodded, knowing that this wasn't exactly true, but simply grateful to Sam for letting him be alone with her for a while. "Let me know what you find out?"

Sam inclined his head, and watched his brother enter the room, shutting the door quietly behind him. He stood watching the spot his brother had just vacated, a funny feeling somewhere in his stomach. He couldn't be sure what it was exactly, but he had a strange feeling that something really bad was going to happen. The odd thing was, he had an awful suspicion that this time demons and spirits wouldn't be the cause. This was one of the only times he wished he would have a vision, anything to give him a heads up on what was going to take place. Walking blindfolded into something potentially dangerous and even life threatening, wouldn't be one of his better ideas.

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Half an hour later, Sam arrived at their motel, unsurprised at the large amount of police cars and passers-by gathered in the parking lot. He looked over towards the edge of the lot, and was relieved to see that the Impala was outside of the police cordons. He jogged over to it and unlocked the trunk, thankful for the fact that Dean had let him drive home last night. He rummaged through the bags, grabbing a torch and searching for Dean's EMF meter. After a few minutes, he resigned himself to having to search the scene without the aid of a busted up cassette player, and slammed the trunk shut.

Now what am I going to do? He thought, leaning back against the trunk and glancing over at the police officers guarding the entrance to their room. He wouldn't be able to just stroll in, so he opened the passenger door and grabbed his US Marshall badge from the glove compartment.

Sam made his way over to the ominous yellow crime scene tape and ducked under it, finding himself nearly rugby tackled by a huge, burly policeman.

"Sir, you need to stay behind the tape." He had a very deep voice, and Sam thought he was definitely not a person to cross.

Resisting his urge to lay into the cop, he reached inside his jacket and pulled out his fake identification. "I'm a US Marshall, Agent Sawyer." He tried his best to sound as annoyed as possible, which wasn't hard seen as the guy had nearly floored him, in the hopes of cutting the cop down to size.

The cop eyed Sam's badge suspiciously, before nodding and moving a little out of his way. "Sorry Sir, go right ahead." He made to move completely out of Sam's way, then paused and held his hand out. "Excuse me, but what has this got to do with the US Marshalls?"

"The young woman attacked here today was under our supervision, so I'd like to take a look at the scene, if I may?"

The cop nodded again, and moved completely out of his way. "There's no-one in there right now, so you have the place to yourself."

Sam nodded, smiling thankfully at the cop as he made his way into the motel room. The sight that greeted him when he pushed the door open was enough to make him gasp in shock, and he could finally understand why Dean had been so pale when he had emerged from the room last night. He had forbidden Sam from coming inside, insisting he call an ambulance and wait outside. Sam was thankful for this, feeling that going inside and seeing Maddie in what could only be a horrific state, would've been too much for him. It was overwhelming enough for him now.

The same thoughts that had passed through Dean's head nearly eight hours ago, now passed through Sam's. The blood, there had to be too much for one person. He stood, mesmerized by it, blinking back tears. He kept imagining her, screaming and begging for her life and then stumbling towards the bathroom, bleeding profusely. She'd lost an unbelievable amount of blood, more than enough to finish her off yet she was still alive. If he hadn't known her, Sam would've thought this was impossible. But she was a fighter, she always had been. He couldn't help but be angry at himself and Dean, going off and playing pool of all things and leaving her alone.

He turned around, balled up his fist and punched the wall, gaining satisfaction in feeling the cheap plaster crumble. He was furious, but not at Dean, at _himself_. Dean had every reason to play pool, to leave her alone. To Dean, everything was fine. But Sam knew differently. He'd been plagued by visions for the past week, visions of this. He'd shrugged them off, mainly because of what had happened the first time they'd met her, and he'd assumed it was just old memories coming back to haunt him. He should've known better than to ignore them, but they were so happy now, he really didn't want to spoil anything. Part of him had wanted to believe that they _were_ just old memories, but deep down he had known this wasn't the case. Now looking at the scene in front of him, he knew that his unconscious had been right and he could've stopped all of this, had he tried.

He could remember that night when Dad left, and he and Dean had spent hours pouring over the file in front of them. Not long after that, Sam had started to visions and nightmares that tormented him day in, day out. The girl in the picture had replaced Jess in his nightmares, but she wasn't a four year old in them. She was the twenty two year old their Dad had asked them to find, yet what worried him the most what that he had never even seen a picture of her. Then he began to have the visions of a room, blood and her lying motionless on the floor. These interchangeable nightmares and visions scared him, as neither him nor Dean could make out which of these visions would come true. Would _the_ demon go after her again, or was it something else entirely?

To their short-lived relief, it hadn't been the demon but some other entity. At first they believed that this other thing would be a piece of cake, easy compared to everything else. But this had been a force to reckon with, and had murdered nearly half a dozen students before they finally managed to dispose of it. At least that's what they thought, until now. Back then, they hadn't even known what it was. No amount of research or searching through their father's journal could give them any information on what was doing this. In the end they'd managed to prevent it from killing Maddie, and banishing it with a spell, but Sam had never really believed it was gone, simply hiding somewhere.

What he hadn't thought about was that this entity wasn't simply haunting a place, but clinging onto someone. That someone being Maddie. None of them had even considered this as a possibility, until now. But it did make sense, and now Sam wondered why it was after her in the first place. Sighing, he glanced around the room, seeing nothing that stood out. He hadn't expected there to be anything, as there had been nothing last time either. Now he knew what it was, Sam had thought he'd been feeling nothing short of exuberant, but the dread building up inside of him was now on an overload. And it was all his fault. If he had just said something, _anything_, then maybe his friend wouldn't be seriously injured in hospital and his brother wouldn't be an emotional wreck. Though Dean would never admit to it, Sam thought, smiling despite himself.

He took a quick peek into the bathroom, seeing nothing other than blood, and made his way back out of the room and towards the car. He nodded at the police officer as he ducked underneath the tape and jogged quickly towards the car, wanting to get back to the hospital as soon as possible, just in case.

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Meanwhile, Dean was perched on a chair next to Maddie's bed, watching her intently. He'd been sat there for over half an hour, but so far she hadn't moved a muscle. He had barely recognised her when he walked in, and if it hadn't been for the colour of her hair, he doubted that he would have recognised her at all. The bed sheets were pulled up underneath her chin, and her face was covered in bruises and scratches. He didn't even want to imagine what kind of state her body was in underneath the sheets, his mind going back to the amount of blood back at the motel. He knew that even though she was out of surgery, there was still a chance that she wouldn't make it. Sam hadn't said as much, but he had seen it in his brother's eyes. Even though he knew Sam was only trying to help, Dean still hated him for it. It should be him protecting Sam, not the other way round.

Pushing these thoughts out of his mind, Dean held Maddie's hand and instead focused on the thing that had brought them here. He hadn't realised at first, but now as he began to picture their room, everything came flooding back to him. The room, the blood, the attack. It looked exactly the same as the incidents eighteen months ago, except then all the victims had died. He felt silently thankful that he had managed to get back in time, any later and they may not have been so lucky. He glanced around the room, listening to the steady beep of the life support machine, his eyes following the numerous tubes leading from her arms and face.

"Mr Winchester?" The door had opened silently behind him, and a doctor stood smiling hesitantly at the door.

Dean nodded, slightly annoyed at being interrupted.

"I presume it was your brother I spoke to before?"

Dean nodded again, sitting back in his seat and smiling cautiously at the doctor.

"How much did your brother tell you about Miss Moriarty's condition?" The doctor asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him.

"Not much really, nothing in fact."

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Sam arrived back at the hospital, just as the doctor and Dean walked out of Maddie's room. Dean smiled at the doctor, and thanked him, before turning to his brother with a face like thunder.

"Hey, Dean is everything alright?" Sam asked, strolling up to his brother.

"You mean you don't know?" Dean snarled, eyeing Sam suspiciously. Then for the first, yet unfortunately not the last, time in his life, Dean balled up his fist and punched his younger brother, sending him flying to the floor.


	4. Dirty Little Secret

Chapter 4

Dean knew that he shouldn't have lost his temper with Sam, but neither could he ignore the immense feeling of satisfaction that had arisen at the sight of his brother lying on the floor with a bloody nose. He'd had a lot of arguments and disagreements with Sam, but none of them had warranted as harsh a reprisal as this. He did feel sorry for his brother, but at the same time he truly believed that Sam did deserve it. Sam should've known that keeping something as important as this hidden from him wouldn't have been taken lightly. After the visions and the nightmares about Jess, Dean had finally hoped Sam would stop keeping secrets from him, but he'd obviously been terribly mistaken.

Now standing over his brother, who was still in a state of shock on the floor, Dean began to worry if he had reacted a little too severely. Deciding to build bridges just a little, he stretched out his hand and pulled Sam to his feet. "So, are you going to explain yourself?"

"Explain myself, why?" Sam replied, taking a wary step back from his brother and looking at him suspiciously.

Dena sighed, trying his hardest to resist the urge to knock the gormless look off his brother's face as his thoughts drifted back to the conversation he had with the doctor, fifteen minutes earlier.

"_How much did your brother tell you about Miss Moriarty's condition?" The doctor asked, stepping into the room and closing the door behind him._

"_Not much really, nothing in fact."_

Dean hadn't given this question much thought before, as it had sounded like any routine question a doctor would ask. But now, the more the thought about it, the less prosaic it sounded. Yet the fact that Sam was hiding something from him hadn't clicked, until the doctor had to spell it out for him.

_The doctor smiled, nodding sympathetically. "No problem, I thought I'd have to go over her condition with you anyway."_

_He just nodded again, behaving as though he was in a state of stock and all he could do was bob his head up and down. "Is she going to be alright?" He finally managed to clear his throat, and looked anxiously at the doctor._

_The doctor, whose name badge read L. Gordon, faltered slightly, his flash exterior being replaced by an uncertain smile. "I don't want to give you false hope, Mr Winchester, but we can't be sure. She made it through surgery which means she's strong, at least. But I can't possibly give a definite diagnosis until tomorrow morning. If she survives the night, then things could be looking up." Gordon rearranged his face to look a little more positive, but this didn't comfort him. In fact, this less than positive news had an awful, draining effect on Dean, and he slumped back in the chair._

_Being a doctor however, Gordon didn't miss this and placed his hand comfortingly on his shoulder. "Trust me, it's not as bad as it sounds."_

The doctor had then gone on to tell Dean something that should've been the best news of his life. Yet with all the lies and the bloodshed, the impact of this had been somewhat diminished. Only now had the real shock of this finally set in.

"_Honestly Mr Winchester, this is as good as it gets, especially if you consider the severity of Madolyn's injuries." Gordon squeezed Dean's shoulder reassuringly, and beamed at him, his whole face alight. "Besides, we managed to save the baby."_

One word and Dean's world had come to a standstill. Despite the bloodshed, despite the injuries and worry, one sentence had nearly knocked Dean off his feet and it had taken him a long time to recover. He never knew and would never have even guessed. She hadn't been feeling too well over the past month, but he didn't consider it to be anything out of the ordinary. Maddie had always had trouble sleeping and when she had a particularly tough night, she always felt a little worse for wear the following day. He just put it down to lack of sleep, and never dreamt it would be something like _this_.

_He sat gaping at Gordon for what seemed like an age, before eventually finding his voice. "B-baby?"_

"_Yes, she's nearly two months gone…" Gordon paused, running his hand over his forehead and finally comprehending. "You don't know, do you?"_

_He shook his head, still fighting to find the right words to say. All he could do was glance from Gordon to the lifeless form of his girlfriend in the bed next to him, trying hard to take everything in._

"_I'm so sorry." Said Gordon, looking genuinely apologetic. "I just assumed that if your brother knew, you wou-"_

"_Hold on a second, he knew?" Dean asked, looking up in amazement. "Sam knew!"_

_Gordon nodded, adding uncomfortable to his list of facial expressions. "When I told him about it, he wasn't surprised. He said he already knew."_

And out came the truth. Dean couldn't believe it at first, to think that his own baby brother would keep something as this hidden from him. He could understand if it was something to do with Sam's life, but it was _his_ girlfriend, _his_ baby. Not Sam's. Everything else the doctor had said after that had been a blur, he'd been too vexed by Sam's actions to even contemplate anything else. He couldn't even begin to imagine why his brother had lied to him, and he didn't even take into the fact that Sam's lies could all be down to Maddie. All these thoughts kept building up inside of him until in the end, the frustration and fury overflowed and he let all of his pent up aggression out on Sam. In a way, he knew Sam didn't deserve it. He had been taught that there was an explanation for everything, and although this was meant to apply to demons and things that go 'bump' in the night, Dean knew deep down that this was a great philosophy to apply to life in general. He knew that Sam would have an explanation for this and that he should feel sorry for punching him, but that feeling of great satisfaction just wouldn't go away.

"The doctor told me, Sam. About the baby." He looked curiously at his brother for any sign of a reaction, and when he received none, he carried on. "You knew. _Before_ he told you."

Sam sighed and nodded, pressing his hand against his bloody nose. "Alright I knew. But Dean please, I only kept it a secret because she asked me too."

Dean frowned, unwilling to admit that Sam's answer seemed to be a plausible one. "Why would she keep it a secret?"

"She wasn't keeping it a secret Dean, she was just trying to find the right time to tell you." He sighed again, amazed at his brother's stupidity, and at how hard he could punch. "Do you honestly think she'd lie to you about something like this?"

Dean paused, leaning his head against the wall and closing his eyes. He couldn't believe that he'd doubt Sam, _and_ Maddie. They were the only two people he truly loved and trusted, and here he was losing his temper before even finding out the truth. He looked, and felt like an idiot. "No, I _know_. Sammy, I'm sorry."

He sounded so truly sorry and humble, that Sam couldn't help but smile, ignoring the pain in his nose. "It's alright, but think before you act next time, okay?"

Dean nodded, pausing as though he was about to say something, before shaking his head and just smiling helplessly.

"You mind if I go sit with her for a while? Unless you'd rather…" Sam trailed off, looking expectantly up at his older brother, and Dean couldn't help but notice that the suspicious look in his eyes hadn't quite disappeared.

"Nah, course I don't mind. I'll just catch forty winks out here for a while." He watched Sam disappear into Maddie's room, and then walked over to the seats opposite. He folded up his jacket and placed it on one of the hard plastic seats as he lied down, trying to make himself comfortable.

He just lay there for a while, trying to fall asleep but with all of the thoughts running through his head, sleep was virtually impossible. First he thought back to just over a year ago, before Dad had died, back to the time Maddie had stopped being 'just' a friend. He'd always liked her, but then again, he'd always liked any hot girl who he'd come into contact with. A first, she'd just been an object. But then as he had learnt more about her, she'd stopped being an object and instead became a person, someone with views, opinions, interests and a killer pair of legs. He'd tried his hardest not to like her, especially as she was younger than Sam, and Dean really thought that it was Sam she should've been interested in. It was the first time he had ever truly thought that a girl wasn't interested in him, and he hadn't liked it. He'd even started treating Maddie horribly, in the belief that she wouldn't care anyway. But she had done, and well… the rest was history in his eyes. Admittedly their first night together had been _different_, to say the least. A drunken night out wasn't the best start to a relationship, but at least it had been a start.

_After an intense demon hunting episode, the three of them had decided to have a night off and forget all their troubles in a local bar. They chose the closest bar to their motel, which happened to be on the opposite side of the road, simply so they could stumble home without having to worry about his precious car. Each beer was followed by a tequila slammer, and three beers and slammers later, Sam was on the floor. _

_After leaving Sam to his own devices, which turned out to be sitting on the floor talking to a beer bottle, he and Maddie continued to follow up beers with tequilas and soon weren't in a much better state than Sam. Deciding to head back to the motel before they were thrown out, he and Maddie had to prop Sam up to help him back._

"_I loveee you, Dean." Sam slurred, intending to put his arm around Dean's shoulder but missing and hitting a waiter as he walked by. "And I loveee you too, Mads." He added, grinning at someone behind her._

"_Love you too, buddy." Dean replied, putting his arm around Sam and half dragging him out of the bar and back to the motel._

He couldn't remember much earlier on from that night. The incident with Sam was possibly the earliest thing he could remember. He wanted to know what he and Maddie had talked about whilst Sam was off talking to old Bud down on the floor, as he was sure whatever they said had been a revealing conversation. He could vaguely remember taking Sam back to their room and making sure he was all snugly warm in his bed, like a little child. Then for some unknown reason, he had decided to take a late night trip to Maddie's room, and hadn't emerged until the morning.

Things haven't changed much, he thought, smiling. But a year on, and despite the incident last night, things were starting to look up. Sam was happy, he was happy, and Maddie was carrying _his_ child. He couldn't honestly say he'd ever even thought about having kids before. With all the hunting and demons, he'd barely had a chance to consider it. But now he had one on the way, he felt ecstatic. He couldn't be more excited, a chance to redo all of his father's mistakes and bring up a child who didn't act like a military cadet. He'd failed with Sammy, he'd tried to protect his little brother from the life at first, but he ended up realising that their father would never let them get away from it. Now he had a perfect opportunity to rectify all of this. Course it would mean giving up the hunting life, but he could do that. Surely he could?

He contemplated this for a moment, his eyes wandering over the various structural damages to the dull hospital ceiling. He thoughts stayed on Maddie and the baby for a while, before they drifted back to the conversation he had with Sam not long ago. He felt truly awful for doing what he did, for judging both Sam and Maddie without giving them a second chance. Thinking about this made him feel much worse, so he tried to force his thoughts away from what had happened, until he realised something he hadn't noticed before. Sam had looked nervous when answering his questions, and had seemed somewhat relieved when Dean had believed what he said. Why would he do that? Dean could sense there was something wrong here. Course he could just be looking into things too deeply, and he really shouldn't overreact like he did last time. But he did consider himself to be a good judge of character, and he knew something with Sam just wasn't right.

Sighing and resigning himself to yet another humiliating apology if he was wrong, he got up and made his way back to Maddie's room. He opened the door and gestured for Sam to make his way outside.

"What's the matter?" Sam asked, looking at his brother curiously.

"What haven't you told me? About Maddie?" He took great pleasure and had to choke down shouting out 'I knew it' when Sam did a double take, and suddenly looked very nervous.

"What? Dean, I've told you everything." Sam replied, avoiding Dean's eyes and glaring at his feet.

"You're a liar, Sam. I'm not an idiot. Spill"

Sam shuffled on the spot, finally look up at his brother with an upset expression on his face. "Okay, but she made me promise not to tell you."

"Go on."

"Please don't get upset. But she was so worried about the baby, she didn't know what to do." Sam was nearly in tears now, clearly upset at how Dean would react.

"Why would she be worried?" Dean asked, starting to dread ever asking Sam anything now.

Sam hesitated, biting down on his lip. "Dean, I swear she only told me because she needed someone to talk to."

"Dammit Sam, spit it out!" He was starting to get frustrated with Sam again, and he knew that if Sam kept this up, he'd have trouble restraining himself.

"She was worried because…because she didn't know if the baby was yours."


	5. Desire

**Chapter 5**

Dean was lost for words, too shocked to even say anything to Sam. Instead he collapsed on one of the seats, his head in his hands, visibly shaken. There wasn't a lot of things that could render Dean speechless, but this was definitely one of them. He could hardly see, trying his hardest to blink back tears and stay strong in front of his brother. He knew that he didn't have to, that Sam would think it would be perfectly fine to break down considering the situation. But he just couldn't, he couldn't open up like that. Especially not now, after the one of the only people he had ever opened up to had betrayed him so cruelly. He couldn't believe that she'd betray him like this, yet deep down he knew that he still loved her and would carry on loving her, despite everything.

He just wished that Sam hadn't been dragged into this whole sordid affair. It might have been easier to deal with had it just been between him and Maddie, but now Sam was involved, things weren't so simple. There was no quick fix, no promises or pretending everything was alright. With Sam caught up in this, he'd be constantly breathing down their necks, trying to find out the truth about what was going on between them. No matter how much he loved his brother, Dean still hated the fact that Sam would constantly nag at him until he caved in. And this was one occasion where he really didn't want to give in. This should have been between him and Maddie, but now Sam was involved, it seemed as though he could no longer say what he felt and act how he really wanted to. Though he did acknowledge that if Sam hadn't said anything then he would still be in the dark, and he wasn't really sure whether to be grateful for this. He knew that he should thank Sam for letting him know, as it was obvious that Maddie would never have told him. Yet there was still a part of him that wished Sam hadn't confessed, and he could carry on with his life as though nothing was wrong.

It was this that he craved most of all, for his life to be fine again and for everything to turn out alright. But he should have known that this wasn't going to be the case, as no Winchester ever stayed happy for long. Dad, Sam, and now him. He knew that the happiness was never going to last, but he just wished it could've ended differently. Being betrayed so heartlessly by the person you loved wasn't the best way to end a year of near perfect bliss.

Now sitting in the hard and uncomfortable plastic chair, Dean tried his hardest to ignore Sam, who was hovering nervously over his shoulder. He couldn't concentrate properly on anything going on around him, he was too immersed in his own thoughts and worried about how his whole world was collapsing in front of his eyes, and he was powerless to stop it. His mood wasn't helped much by the song that was currently running through his head, one of Maddie's favourites.

_You are my sweetest downfall, I loved you first._

He could remember her singing the first line, her blue eyes looking searchingly into his. He knew it was corny, but he had still fallen for it. Now he realised he had never paid much attention to that second part, just dismissing it without a another hearing. But thinking about that now, he wondered if she had meant that part all along. Maybe he really was the one she loved first, but there was someone else too. He knew that he could just be overreacting and that looking too closely into this would be asking for trouble, but he couldn't help it. It was killing him, thinking that she could have loved someone other than him. But that wasn't what was hurting the most. What was really hurting him and burning a hole in his heart, was that a few days earlier he had taken a trip to a local jewellers and bought a diamond ring. A ring that was still sitting in his jacket pocket, weighing heavily on his mind, and a ring that would never see the light of day again.

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Sam knew that Dean was hurting right now and having his younger brother watching over his every move couldn't be helping, so he squeezed Dean's shoulder and wandered off down the corridor. In all honesty, Sam was glad for the time on his own. He loved his brother a lot, but he doubted he'd be able to cope if Dean suddenly broke down in front of him. It was something he never wanted to see and he was sure it was something Dean would never want him to see either. So this worked out best for both of them, as Dean needed some alone time, and Sam needed some time to think too.

Regardless of what his brother thought about him, Sam still cared for both him and Maddie. He'd never meant to get stuck in the middle between them, though this promise had been broken long before this latest incident. Maddie had made him promise not to say anything but he had betrayed her, as he had betrayed his brother. Dean thought he had problems, but they were nothing compared to what was going on in Sam's mind. He was in the middle of an emotional tug of war between doing what was right, and doing what would be best for everyone. So far, he had tried to do what was right, with disastrous consequences. He knew that he should carry on doing the right thing, as his brother deserved to know everything. But the last secret would be enough to send Dean over the edge, if he hadn't gone over it already, and Sam wasn't sure if he wanted to be responsible for the downfall of his only living relative.

Sam wished he had never gotten involved, but like a moth to a flame he had been drawn in, and it was only now that he looked back in disgust at how he had acted. Out of all the people he could have fallen for, he had fallen for his brother's girlfriend. Course she hadn't been Dean's girlfriend when he had first realised his feelings for her, and that made him feel a little better. At least no-one could tell him he only wanted what he couldn't have, but that still didn't change anything. At first he had tried to tell himself that it was all a ridiculous infatuation, one that would fade away over time. But it hadn't, and it kept growing, overwhelming him and taking over his every move and invading his thoughts. He had spent every day fighting it, trying to convince himself to move on. But he never had.

Like Dean, Sam had never met anyone like Maddie before and probably never would again. He had so much in common with her, much more than his brother, which had only added fuel to the fire burning inside of him. She had been at Stanford when they had first sought her out, and his heart had skipped a beat when Dean had first given him this news.

"_You know those co-ordinates Dad gave us?" Dean asked, spreading a map out in front of him on the bed. _

"_Yeah, have you found out where it is?" He asked, flicking through the manilla envelope again._

_Dean nodded, looking over at him apprehensively. "Sam, I've checked this five times already but it keeps pointing to the same place… She's at Stanford."_

He had done a double take at this, not believing what he was hearing. Out of all the places she could have been, she had to be somewhere he really couldn't face going back to. Though even now, he had to admit that the similarities between their situations were surprisingly alike.

"_Sanford?" He asked incredulously. "Dean, I can't go back there. Not after Jessica. I gave everything up to go hunting, and now you want me to face everything I left behind? I just can't do it."_

Of course his first reaction had been to refuse point blank to go, and even now part of him still believed that had he carried on refusing, none of this would be happening. Yet after hours of Dean nagging at him, he had finally caved in and gone with him to Stanford. Being there had been horrible, visiting the place he had once considered to be his home. He had told Dean numerous times to avoid the place where he and Jessica had lived, but that still left the rest of the campus. It didn't help that Maddie was a law student too so to find her, they had to go back to all of his old haunts and every place they went to seemed to be taunting him, wanting him to slip back into his old life. But it would never be that easy, and he had been glad when he could concentrate on saving people's lives instead of on his own personal demons. The week they spent in Stanford had been an enlightening one to say the least, and his thoughts now went back to the day they finally left, Maddie in tow.

Dean had been busy stocking up on M&M's and coffee, leaving him and Maddie alone in the car. She had been lying along the backseat with her head resting against the window, appearing to be asleep.

"_You miss it, don't you?" Maddie asked, making him jump. She was peering intently at him in the rear view mirror._

"_Miss what?" _

"_This. Stanford, law school, a normal life. That's what you wanted, isn't it?"_

_His heart skipped a beat, and he turned around, looking at her curiously. "Course I miss it… although deep down I knew that I never really belonged here." _

_She nodded, and they sat in silence for a few moments as he waited for her to say something else. When she didn't, he turned round and put his head back against the head rest. "How did you do it? Hunting yet living a normal life?"_

_She sighed, running her hand through her hair and tossing it back over her shoulders. "With great difficulty. I hunted over the holidays, whilst pretending to my friends that I was just a normal girl, going home to my family…but I knew that something would have to give eventually..." _

"_School?"_

_She nodded again. "Yeah. I knew that I'd never be able to stop hunting, no matter how hard I tried." _

_There was a hint of sadness in her voice and Sam realised he knew exactly how she felt._

No matter how hard he had tried to fight it, he knew that hunting was what he had been born to do. Even now, after the demon had been defeated and they had avenged their mother's and Jess' death, they were still hunting. He had toyed with going back to law school, but in the end he couldn't face it. He tried to tell himself that it was only because he didn't want to leave Dean on his own but he couldn't make his argument stand, even with himself.

"_How long have you known?" He asked, glancing at her in the rear view mirror._

"_Known what?"_

"_That you're different." It was her turn to be surprised, and he relished in the shocked expression that had flickered across her face._

"_Since I was thirteen. You?" Her voice was unpredictably neutral, and he could tell this was something she wasn't used to talking about openly._

"_About a year or so, give or take. You know you can talk to me right? I know how you're feeling.." He smiled gently at her, and was glad to see his smile returned._

"_When I was a kid, I used to be able to sense what kind of moods people were in. Nothing too complicated at first, but I knew when someone was in a good or bad mood. You know how sometimes you can tell what kind of mood people are in? Well I _knew_. But then it started to get weird and it wasn't just good or bad moods anymore. I could tell whether someone was bored, angry, depressed, giddy… You name it, I could sense it." She smiled nervously, grateful to see that he was looking understandingly at her. _

"_Care to demonstrate?" He asked, nodding in the direction of a old man opposite them._

_She grinned and leant over the front seats, her hair brushing his face and her hand resting on his shoulder as she tried to get a better look. "He's worried, really worried. Someone he loves is ill, dying even and he doesn't know what to do." _

"_You can tell all that just by sensing what kind of mood he's in?" He looked up at her in amazement._

_She bit her lip and shook her head. "Not exactly."_

"_Then how?"_

"_I brushed past him on my way to the bathroom before." _

"_And that helps because?" He paused, scratching his head. "What aren't you telling me?"_

"_I can't just sense people's moods anymore. Whenever I touch someone's bare skin, I get some sort of flash I guess." She frowned, and Sam could totally relate to the internal struggle she was going through trying to put it into words. "I can't see the future, or read people's thoughts but I can see someone's past. I get flashes of things that have happened to them. Like with that guy, I saw him sitting beside a hospital bed…Silly, isn't it?"_

"_No, no it isn't." He smiled reassuringly at her. "It makes a lot of sense. Besides you're talking to someone who's telekinetic and has visions remember?" He grinned at her, taking delight in her laugh as she sat back in her seat. "But surely this doesn't happen every time you touch someone's bare skin?"_

"_No, thank god. It usually happens once or twice when I touch someone's hand, arm or whatever, then disappears. It's worse if I touch someone's face, near their temples." She tapped the side of her head, smiling softly._

The feeling he had, talking to someone else who understood what he had been through, was one he would love to experience over and over again. To be able to talk openly to someone about his abilities, and in turn, listen to someone talk about theirs, had made his year. He presumed that it was this that had attracted him to her in the first place, other than her looks and how similar they were.

After this, Maddie had been able to do no wrong in his eyes. Every conversation they had only fuelled how he felt about her. Even though he knew Dean liked her, part of him thought he still had a chance. And even after she had become Dean's girlfriend, deep down he had still believed that there was chemistry between them and that something would happen, even though the consequences would be devastating for all of them.

And they had been devastating so far, and this was before Dean had found out the whole truth. If he did, Sam didn't even want to think about how his brother would react. He tried to rid this thought from his mind, instead his focus landing on the a night only four months ago.

_Dean was off on his own hunting trip for a week, leaving Sam and Maddie dealing with their own case in the middle of nowhere. Sam knew it was because Dean thought he was much more capable than they were, but Sam secretly thought Maddie was much more capable on her own than both him and Dean put together. Not that he'd ever admit that out loud, and he wasn't complaining about spending some time with Maddie either. _

They had managed to get through the first two days resisting temptation, though Sam knew they'd only just managed to get by. In hindsight, it had been a bad idea to stay in the same room, as that had only made matters worse. He did acknowledge that when it came to it, everything had been his fault. He started it all and if he had only stayed away, maybe things would have turned out differently.

_They were both lying on their beds, Maddie watching the television and Sam browsing the internet, looking for leads. Neither of them said much, each immersed in what they were doing and comfortable in each other's company. Then Sam broke the silence with something he'd mulling over for a while now._

"_Maddie, would you do something for me?"_

_She looked up from the television, her eyes glazed as though she'd been day dreaming. "What?"_

"_I want you to read my mind, or do you thing… whatever it's called." He grinned and tapped the side of his head as she had done all those months ago._

_She frowned at him for a second, and then stood up and walked over to his bed, sitting down next to him and nodding. For this Sam was grateful. Any other person would have asked him hundreds of questions, yet she hadn't said a word. _

"_Just don't move, okay?" _

_He nodded and she scooted forwards on the bed, leaning forwards and placing her fingers on his temples. _

That had been the strangest feeling in the world, and Sam had never felt anything like it. It was like a draining feeling, though in a good way. It felt as though there was some sort of warm current running through him and it had left him feeling sleepy. Despite doing this, he still didn't know what she had seen, if anything and right now, he didn't think it mattered.

_Her eyes were closed, a calm expression on her face as her long, slender fingers pressed against his temples. She was so close that he could smell her perfume, and he took this opportunity to just gaze at her, his eyes wandering over the pale freckles on her nose. A horrifying thought arose as he finally realised that he was now seeing through his brother's eyes, and he shuddered, trying to rid the thought of Dean from his mind. _

_Maddie opened her eyes, surprised to catch him staring at her. She blushed and turned her face away, though he was glad to see that her hands had only slipped down his face and that there was still a small smile playing on her lips. _

_He reached up and touched her cheek, turning her face back towards him and was relieved when she didn't turn away again. He gazed into her eyes, watching the light from the television reflect in the corners. He leant down towards her, his nose grazing hers and their lips almost touching. He knew that this should be the time to stop, to pull away before anyone was hurt, but he couldn't. He had come too far now to back away. There was time for regrets later but he knew that it was either now or never._

_He leant in further, his lips grazing and then pressing again hers. He felt fireworks explode somewhere in his stomach as his lips caressed hers, and he reached towards the small of her back, pulling her to him. She resisted for a second, her back stiffening at his touch before softening and letting herself be taken in. He kissed her greedily, running his fingers through her hair and feeling her body pressed up against him. One of her hands was still cupping his face, the other playing with the hair at the base of his neck as she tried to pull him even closer. He could feel the urgency and neediness in her kiss, she wanted him and he craved her more than anything. The desire and longing that had built up inside of him kicked in as he pushed her back onto the bed, the fireworks and butterflies still exploding in his stomach as she quickly undid the buttons on his shirt. _

_This would have been the time to stop, the time to tap out and say no. But neither of them would, Sam knew that for sure. After a year of things building up, this was all he wanted and all he could ever have dreamed of. All they could do was give in to the passion burning inside of them and hope that this would put an end to everything, and stop a doomed relationship before it could even get off it's feet._

But it hadn't done, in fact that night had only added fuel to an already out of control fire. He had woken up that morning expecting it to have been just a dream, and that he would be alone, and she be fast asleep in her own bed. But it hadn't been a dream, and she was lying in his arms, with her head resting on his chest and her arm draped across his waist.

_He smiled, shifting slightly as he put his around her and toyed with her hair. _

"_Sam?"_

"_Yeah?"_

"_You know we can never be together, don't you?" She propped her chin up on his chest and looked longingly at him._

"_Yeah, I know." He hugged her and kissed her forehead, smiling softly._

Though some promises just couldn't be kept, and he and Maddie had their fun that week, away from Dean's prying eyes. And although both knew that it would, and _should _never happen again, it always did. Whenever Dean disappeared, even for a night, they couldn't resist temptation. They both knew they were doing wrong, the worst sin possible, yet they had formed some kind of unspoken rule to never mention how what they were doing was wrong. If they had done, then maybe things wouldn't have gone this far. Sam had kept telling himself to resist, to stand firm and not do anything. But every time he looked into those blue eyes, his opposition melted. What was supposed to be a one off had turned into dozens of times, the last time being just over two months ago…

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Okay, hope you liked. If anyone's interested, the song mentioned is called "Samson" by Regina Spektor. Brilliant song.

Also, there is a reason behind doing this, other than i think it makes a good story, so if you ask... i'll tell!

S x


	6. Fools In Love

Just thought i'd say a quick thanks to all of you who've reviewed this so far - those of you who i know, and who i don't. It is very much appreciated, and i hope i don't let you down with this story!

For your info, i'm hoping this chapter will stop you hating Maddie as much. Hopefully. If not, it's not the end of the world right?

And finally, the song mentioned is _Never Leave Your Heart Alone_ by Butterfly Boucher. Great song.

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**Chapter 6**

The nightmare was almost never ending, stopping and starting as though on a continuous loop in her mind. Whenever the nightmare stopped, if only for a few minutes, the darkness would take hold and there would be nothing. Just an empty space where the world should be. Sometimes there'd be voices in the distance, though she could never quite make out who they belonged to. She'd try to call out to them, to move or do anything, but it was as though she was stuck in some alternate reality and all she could do was relive the same nightmare over and over. And it was this that she was reliving again now, tossing and turning in her mind yet not moving a muscle in her hospital bed.

_It was a dark and stormy night, as always where supernatural beings were concerned, the front gate was creaking in the wind and the rain was hammering down on the windows. All was quiet in the house, except for the soft ticking of the grandfather clock downstairs. She was stood in her nursery, standing over her cot, as though a invisible third person watching events unfold. She couldn't move of her own free will, forced to go wherever the nightmare took her. and right now she was stood looking down at herself as a baby, sleeping soundly underneath her blanket. But she wasn't the only one. Standing next to her was another figure, shrouded in darkness so that only a shadowy outline was visible._

She had always found it bizarre and slightly unnerving to watch herself as a baby, though she found it harder knowing that the rest of her family were asleep only metres away and that she couldn't warn them about what was coming. She was too young to recall anything about her family and now all she had to remember them by was a few photographs and a battered old videotape. When she was younger, even after having the nightmares, she'd never quite understood what had happened. Now all she wanted as to have her family back again. But what had really killed her was knowing that she was standing next to the thing that had murdered her mother and inadvertently killed the rest of her family, and all she could do was watch in horror.

_The nightmare now jumped to her parent's bedroom, her father sound asleep and only his hair visible from under the duvet, while her mother was lying awake on her side, facing the doorway. Without a sound she pulled back the duvet and climbed out of bed, walking into the hallway, not noticing the light at the end of the landing flickering as she made her way silently down to the nursery._

Even though she knew what was going to happen and that she couldn't stop it, every time she would cry out, scream and try and stop her mother from going. And every time she'd fail. She'd have to watch helplessly as her mother walked unknowingly to her death.

_Her mother walked into her nursery, hesitating at the light switch before leaving it off and wandering over to the crib. She reached her hand down, feeling a tiny hand close around her fingers as she bent down and kissed her forehead._

What happened next was always a blur, and for that she was glad. Seeing her mother being torn apart was not something she cared to watch. One minute her mother was standing next to the crib, the next she was suspended from the ceiling, bleeding from her abdomen.

_She was pinned to the ceiling, her eyes and mouth open pleadingly as the blood dripped onto the floor and in her crib. It was as though her mother was begging for her help and she was sure that sometimes, she could hear her whispering "Help me. Maddie, please help."_

This was what haunted her thoughts, even though she knew she this was all in her mind. What did disturb her though was that _he_ could have helped her mother, and saved the rest of her family too, yet in her heart she knew he couldn't have. But as she grew older, the guilt over her family's death grew too much to bear so it helped her to pass this guilt onto someone else, whether they were responsible or not.

_The next thing she saw was fire, everywhere. Darting out from underneath her mother's body, consuming her and then spreading across the room, grasping hungrily at the curtains and furniture. She wanted to scream, to cry out and grab her younger self, to save her from the fire even though she knew that _he'd_ turn up.. And as if on cue, John Winchester burst into her nursery, pausing at the scene in front of him. He glanced upwards, his eyes full of remorse and anger as she knew he was being reminded of his wife's death. He stood as if mesmerized by the sight in front of him, before spurring himself into action and grabbing her from the crib. He paused at the doorway, glancing back into the room as if he wanted to go back for something, but the flames proved too overwhelming and he ran out into the hallway and down the stairs._

She could tell that he had been planning on going back to try and save them, but he hadn't had the chance. The flames had spread too quickly, and going back would have meant suicide. She owed him her life and she would always love him for it, even now after he was gone. But every day she couldn't help but wonder why not one member of her family had woken up earlier, instead of only having a moments notice before burning to death.

_After John had taken her outside, the nightmare went back into the house and up the stairs. Everywhere was in flames, and all of their belongings were being torn apart. But the worst thing was the screams. It seems that her family had woken up after all, only to realise that their house was on fire and that the awful burning smell was that of their skin being melted away. And if that wasn't enough, she had to endure watching her older brother screaming and writhing in pain as the flames consumed him alive._

It was this that made her wake up screaming and drenched in sweat nearly every night, and it was this that now led to the endless darkness. Except this time, there was no darkness, no silence. This time, she really did wake up.

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The white of the hospital room seemed harsh after the prolonged darkness, and it took her eyes a while to adjust. As with all hospital rooms, the smell of disinfectant was particularly sharp and no matter how many times she blinked, everything was still covered in a faint white glow. The room was silent except for the steady beep of her life support machine, and she hated it. Silence in hospitals had always reminded her of death, and she'd try to avoid it at all costs. In fact, she'd usually try to avoid hospitals in general. There was something eerie and depressing about them, and she always came out of them feeling drained of all hope and energy. And then of course there was the food, if it could be called that. She'd sell her soul to never have to touch the stuff again.

She tried to laugh, and nearly choked due to the tube down her throat. Telling herself that laughing was a bad idea, she glanced around the room, a small smile playing on her lips as her eyes landed on a figure slumped in a chair next to the bed. She hadn't noticed him at first, but now she couldn't take her eyes off him. Dean had fallen asleep with his head resting on the bed, hand reaching out to hers. He looked so peaceful sleeping there that she didn't want to wake him, instead putting her hand in his. Though this seemed to have the opposite effect to what she had intended, as he jumped out of his seat and stood looking warily at her.

If pictures really could tell a thousand words, then the look in his eyes was enough for a feature length movie script. She could tell right away that he knew, though she couldn't tell exactly what. All she recognized was that the look in his eyes was no longer one of love, happiness or even hope. It was a look of utter disgust and mistrust, and she knew Sam had let everything slip. Dean would never look at her like that unless Sam had said something.

All she wanted to do was to explain, to try and make things even that little bit better. She knew she'd never be able to make him understand why, but at the very least she could try though she barely understood it herself. She'd risked a brilliant relationship with him to have an affair with his brother, committing possibly the worst sin she could think of. Like Sam, she'd hoped that one night would have been enough. But it hadn't, and instead she'd found herself falling for Sam in the same way she had Dean. Though this had been worse, as she was risking her happiness for something that could never evolve past secret trysts and covert glances. She'd tried to tell herself it was simply an infatuation, that her feelings for Sam would disappear and she could go back to Dean, with him none the wiser.

The last thing she had expected was to fall in love with Sam. But she had, and she'd fallen hard. When she was younger, she had never loved anyone and for years she had blamed this on losing her family. So falling in love with two people, let alone two _brothers,_ had been the shock of her life, and she had been in denial over this for months. Yet now she knew this was true, and this is what made it harder. She couldn't try and explain this to anymore, not even Sam, as no-one would really understand. They'd hate her, one way or another, and no-one would quite comprehend what she was going through. To love two people at the same time was tearing her apart inside, and she was powerless to stop it. She had tried to choose between them, but this had only made things worse when she realised that she physically couldn't choose. She knew the sane thing to do was to stop things with Sam before Dean found out, but she couldn't bring herself to do it. And now she was going to suffer, simply for loving two people unconditionally. And to make matters worse, all of this reminded her of one of her mother's favourite songs, one she'd heard playing in the background of their home video and one she'd tried to stay true to.

_The moral to the story goes, never leave your heart in a box locked up with cold, cold ice_

_Never leave your heart… never leave your heart alone_

And doing her part, she hadn't been alone. At least not physically. She had both Sam and Dean, and even though that would usually comfort her, now it just made her cold and lonely. She loved them and always would, but the fact that she couldn't be open about it, gave her the feeling of being alone in a crowded room, and it wasn't a feeling she much cared for. The only thing she had wanted was to be happy and she'd achieved this, even if it was at a terrible price.

And now with the tube down her throat, she realised she couldn't explain everything to him, and a single tear rolled down her cheek as she looked into his eyes.

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Dean couldn't take his eyes off her. He'd prepared himself for what he was going to say once she was awake, but now the time had come, everything had gone blank. All he could do was stare at her, finding it difficult to keep the emotion out of his eyes as the reality of what she had done finally hit home.

He stepped forward, finally tearing his eyes away from her and pressing the button to alert the nurse. He didn't dare to go outside, worrying that she'd disappear or fall unconscious again as soon as he left. Backing away from the bed, he stood nervously by the door, his eyes darting around the room, now unable to even look at her.

The silence in the room was broken by the entrance of a resident doctor, who threw Dean a strange look as she walked over to the bed. "It's nice to see you're finally awake, Miss Moriarty. You had all of us worried, including your boyfriend here." She nodded in Dean's direction, smiling pleasantly and apparently oblivious to the tension in the room. "Now, take a deep breath while I take this tube out." She removed the endotracheal tube quickly, smiling satisfactorily as Maddie took a huge gasping breath. "I should really check to see if you're alright, but I have a feeling you two have a lot of catching up to do." With that, she took her leave and shut the door quietly behind her.

Dean appreciated her leaving, but had a feeling that it was more to do with her overhearing his and Sam's argument in the corridor than him and Maddie catching up. Though he was grateful all the same, as he now wanted to know the truth more than ever. Every second that passed without knowing was killing him.

He stood in silence for a few moments, avoiding her gaze and instead trying to focusing on anything else; the television, the metal blinds, even a speck of dust on the bedspread. Anything to not look at her, and be taken in by those eyes. But in the end he had to give in and he turned to face her, trying to keep his expression and voice as neutral as possible. "Well?"

She faltered for a second, and he could see she was trying to put a voice to her thoughts. "Dean, I'm so sorry… I never meant to-"

"Never meant for what? Never meant to tell me?" He tried to keep his voice level, but everything that had been building up inside of him was slowly seeping out, and he was fuming.

"I… I…" She stuttered, the anguish and upset apparent in her voice. "I would've told you eventually, you know that."

"Do I really? Do you honestly want me to believe that you would've told me everything if Sam hadn't let it slip?"

"Yes, I do. If you know me at all, then you'd believe that." She shifted in the bed and pulled herself into a sitting position, grimacing in pain.

He shook his head, balling his hands into fists to try and release some of his pent up aggression. "I don't even know who you are anymore, Maddie."

"But you _do_. I'm the same person I've always been."

"No you're not! Can't you see? The person I know, the girl I _love, _would never cheat on me! The same way I'd never _ever_ cheat on you!"

The tears were running freely down her face now, even though he could see her trying hard to blink them back. "We never meant to hurt you, Dean! It was a mistake that was taken too far…"

"Do you regret it?" He asked quietly.

"What?"

"Do you regret it?"

She paused and just looked at him, and that look was enough to tell him everything. "Even after this, you don't regret it?"

"Of course I do. I love you Dean, and I never would have done anything to hurt you on purpose. But-" She stopped, hoping he would finish the sentence off and make it easy on her, but he wouldn't let her get out of it so easily.

"But what?"

"But I love him too."

He stood looking at her speechlessly, his eyes sparkling as he tried to hold back the tears. "You honestly believe that?"

She nodded, keeping her eyes on him. "If I didn't, do you really think we'd be having this conversation right now?"

"That doesn't matter, you still cheated on me! The way I feel about you, I've never felt the same way about anyone else and this is how you repay me!"

"I know that you'll never forgive me, as he's your brother and it's the worst of all sins, but I never meant for this to happen. No matter what, I still love you!" She was sitting as far forward as her injuries would allow, looking pleadingly at him.

"I don't care whether you still love me or not, it's the principle of- wait a second, my brother? Sam! You cheated on me with _SAM_?" His eyes widened and he couldn't believe what he was hearing. Then suddenly all of the fury boiled up inside of him and finding no suitable punch bag, he slammed his fist into the wall beside him, feeling the plaster crumble beneath his knuckles.

"You mean you didn't know?" She asked timidly, sitting back a little on the bed to avoid be the object of his frustration.

"No. He neglected to mention who it was, and now I know why." He replied emotionless through gritted teeth. "Are you trying to tell me that Sam's the father?"

"I honestly don't know."

"You don't even know the meaning of the word 'honest'." He spat, leaning his head against the wall and examining his knuckles. Then throwing her one last revolted look, he opened the door without a word.

"Where are you going?" She asked, wiping the tears away from her eyes, although she thought she already knew his answer.

He paused and turned to look at her, grinning wickedly as he backed out of the door. "To teach Sammy a lesson."


	7. The Voice Within

This one isn't quite as long as some of the other chapters, but i felt like it was a good place to end... but Chapter 8 will be up soon! Hopefully... :)

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****Chapter 7**

Dean backed quickly out of the door, a strange glint in his eyes as he glanced up and down the corridor, quickly realising that Sam was nowhere to be seen. This did nothing to improve his mood, and the absence of his brother only seemed to make him angrier. He didn't even know what he was going to say to Sam, though he had a faint idea that it was his fists that were going to be doing the talking. On many occasions he had felt the urge to lay into his brother, though this had simply been a passing fancy, a kind of animalistic impulse that every normal person had. But this was different, even worse than the rage that had taken over Sam back in Rockford. At least in parts, that had been self induced. However, the fury that was eating away at him wasn't his fault and if he had anything to do with it, he'd be incapable of feeling such atrocious anger. He didn't want to be angry at Sam, but at the same time he didn't want to forgive him either.

Sam and Maddie had committed the worst of all sins and no matter how hard they tried, he'd never be able to forgive them. Out of the two of them, it was Sam's betrayal that hurt him the most. Maddie, he could _almost_ understand. She was his girlfriend, but he didn't own her. She had always been independent and even though he'd secretly called her "his", he'd never truly believed it. Not that he'd ever forgive her, as cheating was bad enough, but cheating with his own brother was inexcusable. But Sam? Sam was his own flesh and blood, and he'd slept with the person Dean had loved the most. Even if there wasn't another life involved, he didn't think he'd ever be able to forgive either of them. Course he'd still love them, you couldn't simply give and take love like that, but he'd never feel quite the same about either of them.

He thought the grief over his father's death would be the worst he'd ever feel, but that was nothing compared to this. He was livid yet utterly distraught at the same time. Focusing on how furious he was at both of them took his attention away from how broken up he was about everything. Finding out that he was going to be a father, and then being told that it might be his brother's was too much to bear. The more he thought about it, the more he hated them. It wasn't so much the cheating that made him hate them, it was the fact that they'd broken his heart. They'd affected him much more than he'd be willing to admit out loud, and this was what kept him going. All he wanted to do was find Sam and let out some of his anger. Maybe then it'd make up for having his heart ripped out.

He shook his head, as though trying to rid himself of these thoughts. Trying his hardest to push them aside, he made his way towards the hospital exit where he knew he'd find his brother. He paused as he reached the automatic doors, breathing deeply as he hovered just in front of the sensor. Everywhere around him, people were rushing about and lounging around on chairs, not noticing the distressed young man lingering at the front of the foyer. Those who did notice him, didn't think him worthy of a second glance, simply another shell shocked relative of the injured. All except a young girl, no older than five, who was sat playing with her teddy bear as her mother read a health magazine. She stared intently at him, frowning as he began to play with something around his neck. "Mommy, that man doesn't look too good."

Her mother looked up from her magazine and followed her daughter's gaze. "No honey, he doesn't."

"What's wrong with him?"

"I don't know sweetheart. Maybe like the rest of us in here, he's had some bad news."

"You mean like us and Daddy?"

Her mother paused for a second, lip quivering and her eyes sparkling. "Yes, honey."

"I bet he doesn't feel too good either then." The girl gazed at him for a while longer, messing with the arms on her teddy bear with an concentrated look at on her face. Then as though she'd made her mind up, she slid off her seat, leaving her mother immersed in her magazine.

Still standing in the foyer, Dean jumped as he felt something pulling at the bottom of his jacket. Looking down, he noticed a young girl with flame red hair tugging lightly with one hand, whilst holding a battered old teddy bear in the other. "Mister, you look sad."

He smiled at her, crouching down so that he was level with her. "Well little lady, you might just be right. And who might you be?"

"I'm Jennie, I'm here visiting someone… So, why are you sad?" She asked inquisitively, hugging her teddy to her chest. When he didn't respond, instead looking pensively off into the distance, she waved her hand in front of his face. "I _can_ keep a secret, you know."

He laughed, flashing her his wicked grin. "I don't doubt that... Do you really want to know?" He asked, motioning her to forwards when she nodded. "Well I just found out some devastating news, and now I have to go and confront one of the people involved."

She nodded, and he wouldn't have been the slightest bit surprised if she actually understood what he meant. "The same thing happened to us and my Dad."

"What happened to your Dad, sweetie?" He asked, glancing from her to her mother, who was now leaning back against her chair with her eyes closed and a troubled expression on her face.

"He got sick. He woke up one day and didn't feel too good. And yesterday he collapsed." She hugged her teddy even tighter, and Dean could see bits of stuffing poking out of the seams.

"Oh honey I'm sorry. Is he going to be okay?"

She shook her head, looking solemnly up at him with big, round eyes. "My mommy told me he's going to be okay, but that's not what the doctors said. I heard them talking."

He ruffled her hair, smiling remorsefully at her. "Can't get much past you, can they?" He laughed as she nodded and grinned at him, amazed at how quickly children could deal with things. If only us adults could do that, he thought, frowning as his mind tried to drift back onto Sam and Maddie. "So, who's this then?" He asked, touching her teddy's paw.

"Oh, this is Paddy. He looks after me." She replied, holding out Paddy's paw.

"Well I should think so." He grabbed Paddy's paw, and shook it. "It's very nice to meet you Paddy, my name's Dean."

"Do you wanna hold him?" She asked, tipping her head to the side and looking at him inquisitively. "It helps. He made me feel better when I found about my Daddy." She held him out and reluctantly, Dean took hold of the bear, holding him out at arm's length.

"You sure about this?" He asked, eyeing Paddy suspiciously.

"Sure, he doesn't bite."

Still eyeing Paddy warily, Dean gave him a quick bear hug, which isn't as impossible as it sounds, before handing him back to a delighted Jennie.

"Do you feel better?" She asked, beaming at him.

"You know what, I actually do." He replied sincerely. He didn't know what it was, whether it had been the bear or simply talking to someone with an unbiased view on life, but he did feel better. He still wanted to knock Sam's lights out, but he now knew that despite everything, this wasn't the end of the world. If a girl as young as Jennie could accept that her Dad was dying, surely he could accept something like this?

"Good, I told you so." She replied cheekily, grinning up at him.

"You sure did, smart ass aren't you?" He responded, laughing as she looked at him in disgust.

"You really shouldn't swear, Paddy doesn't like it." She frowned at him, putting her hands over the bear's ears. "Anyway, I'm going to go see my Daddy now. I hope everything turns out okay for you, Mister." She turned to go and then paused before virtually jumping on him, giving him a comforting hug.

"You too, sweetheart." He whispered into her ear, watching her as she dragged Paddy back to her mom.

As well as making him feel a little better, Jennie's visit had given him something else to think about. He'd never even given children a second thought before now, but after finding out he could be a father and after talking to Jennie, the idea had never appealed more to him. When they were kids, he'd spend most of his days looking after Sam and he never realised how much this affected him until now. Even though he wasn't known for his modesty, especially when it came to his looks, he hated to admit that he could turn out to be a good father, considering the experience he'd had with Sam. And of course with Lucas and Jennie.

Standing in front of the automatic doors, Dean finally came to a decision. No matter what happens between him, Maddie and Sam, if the baby was his, then he'd be a proper father to it. He could hate Maddie all he wanted, but he couldn't take his feelings out on an innocent child. Assuming the baby was his of course. If it was Sam's, then he honestly couldn't care less. They might be his flesh and blood, but he really didn't know if he could live around the people that had broken up his longest ever relationship. Plus he didn't know whether he'd be able to cope, watching Sam and Maddie with a child that should and _could_ have been his. That'd be too much to take, and he'd rather be alone that have to put up with that kind of emotional torment.

For the first time today, Dean felt immensely satisfied, finally realising that despite how he felt now, this wasn't the end of the world. Course it'd take time for him to really accept what had happened, and he'd never fully forget what had happened… who would? But he now knew that no matter how furious and upset he felt now, it'd get better in the end.

With this in mind, he finally walked out of the foyer into the bright afternoon sunshine. Squinting and shading his eyes, he glanced to his left and noticed Sam sitting on a bench, head in his hands. Dean felt a small twinge when he noticed how helpless Sam looked, yet forced himself to ignore this as he walked over and prepared himself for what could be a full on war.

"Guilty conscience?" He asked, revelling in Sam's stunned expression.

"Why would I?" Sam replied, standing up and folding his arms defensively across his chest.

"Maddie woke up."

"Wow, Dean, that's great!" Sam exclaimed, moving as if to hug his brother, but Dean shoved him roughly away, earning himself a hurt and bewildered look. "What's your problem?"

"My problem? What do you think my problem is, Sam?" Dean spat, advancing on his brother, who stepped back cautiously. "Maddie told me everything."

"Everything?" Sam replied, biting his lip nervously and glancing side to side.

"Yes, Sam, _everything_."

Sam hesitated for a second, twitching nervously, and Dean could almost hear the cogs turning. "Dean, I'm sorry, I really am. I never meant for anything to happen, I swear! I'm _so_ sorry!"

"So you should be." Dean looked furiously at Sam for a moment and he must have seen something in his brother's eyes, as all of the anger that had been eating away at him finally became too much to bear and he sent Sam flying to the ground.

"Dean, what are you doing?" Sam spluttered, wiping the blood from his nose.

"Making myself feel better." Dean replied, bending down and pulling Sam up by his jacket, bringing their faces together so that their noses were almost touching. He faltered for a moment, as though he was about to say something. But then everything Jennie and Maddie had said came flooding back to him, and he brought his and Sam's foreheads together with a sickening crack. Both of them stumbled and Dean let go of Sam, who collapsed back onto the floor.

Dean grimaced, gingerly touching his forehead as he staggered over towards Sam. "Why aren't you fighting back?"

"Because I deserve it." Sam muttered through clenched teeth, nursing his head in his hands.

"Damn right you do." Dean threw back, regaining his balance and landing a sharp kick to Sam's ribs, taking great pleasure in the harsh gasp that escaped his brother's lips. "Do you have any idea how much you've hurt me, Sammy?"

"No, but I can guess." Sam wheezed, taking in short, fast breaths as he tried to sit up. "Dean, you know I never meant to hurt you. That's the last thing I wanted to do!"

"Oh yeah, then what about the incident in Rockford, Sam? You didn't mind hurting me then!"

Sam looked up at him in disbelief, snorting and laughing despite the amount of pain he was in. "That was different, and you know it. I never would have even thought of hurting you if it hadn't been for Ellicott."

"Oh really?" Dean snapped, pulling Sam to his feet again. "So the fact that sleeping with Maddie would be the best way to get back at me, never crossed your mind?"

"Not at all." Sam replied, now looking at his brother in utter disgust. "I'd never do something that spiteful, and you know it. I love her-"

"Oh spare me. Just shut up, Sam. I can't trust a word you say anymore!" It was as though something in him had just suddenly snapped, and the rest of his pent up aggression came bursting out of him at the mention of the word "love". He knocked Sam to the ground again, this time not giving him chance to get up and fight back, instead laying into him with a frenzied barrage of kicks and punches.

If anyone had been walking past, all they would have seen was a brutal and violent attack on a seemingly innocent victim. Yet in Dean's eyes, it was a just and fair punishment for tearing his world apart, and at the moment, he didn't regret a thing. Now he finally let up and stood back from his brother, tears in his eyes as he stood there transfixed. Then he headed out towards the car park and his beloved car, leaving Sam lying bloodied and motionless on the floor.


	8. To The End

Alright, finally managed to get this next chapter up :) I'm really not too keen on this one. Some bits i like, but some bits i hate. Like the ending. So your comments are needed even more than ever right now! Please let me know what you think... as it is VERY much appreciated :)

Oh and the song mentioned is called Far Away by Nickelback.

Enjoy

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****Chapter 8**

The world kept disappearing, re-emerging every so often in brief flashes, before dissolving to black again. With every flash, he expected there to be a moment of clarity, or something to help him understand what was going on. But at first there was nothing. No sense of belonging, no idea of where he was, just an incoherent video reel that left him more bewildered than ever. He'd only had one particularly lucid moment, but even with that he hadn't been able to make much sense of anything. There had been voices, a few of them but all out of his field of vision. None of them he could put a name to, though he was sure at least one of them was familiar. Apart from that, all he had to go on was a steady beeping and bright overhead lights. If he was more of a believer, he wouldn't have ruled out alien abduction.

He laughed out loud, but no sound escaped his lips. If was as though he was unable to move or to do anything, stuck helplessly in his own body with only the darkness for company. He had no concept of time or space, and for all he knew the world outside had disappeared. He couldn't tell how long he'd been like this, though he knew the periods of darkness were getting shorter. He was starting to become more aware of things around him and he was beginning to acknowledge a numbness somewhere in his body. Where, he couldn't tell. To him, there was only two things he was aware of; his mind and the rest of his body. He couldn't differentiate between separate parts of his body, only knowing that some part of his body was numb, and that increasingly this numbness was being replaced with a sharp, stabbing pains. They had only been faint at first, subsiding soon after. But now it felt as though they were there for hours before the numbing relief finally washed over him. He knew that this must be a good thing, but at the same time he found himself wishing that the pain would simply go away and never come back.

Though what he wanted most was to wake up, to rid himself of the horrible images and visions that haunted him whenever reality faded and darkness took over. Some of the images were of Jess, Maddie, his parents, but the most prominent were the visions. Visions that had already come true, or that they had already prevented from happening. The one that tormented him the most was the vision of Maddie, lying bloody and motionless on the floor. He couldn't help but think that if he'd acted, if he'd only done something about his dream, then none of this would be happening. Not that was sure what 'this' was anymore. Everything had taken on a dreamlike and cartoonish quality, with everything from Maddie's accident to Dean's violent reaction unfolding as though taken straight from a movie script. If it hadn't been for the sharp pains and that little voice in the back of his mind, he would have been inclined to believe that it had just been all a dream..

This was all the more reason for him to wake up, to snap back to reality before it was too late and the darkness took over. Yet no matter how hard he tried to focus on this, there was nothing. No movement, just sharp pains and then the cold, numbing respite. So all he could do was lie there, muddle through the darkness with only his visions for company.

_Not that the visions were the worst, oh no_. He'd rather spend an eternity reliving his visions than spend another minute picturing Dean's face, distraught and livid as he beat the living hell out of him. He knew that this was the face that was going to haunt his dreams for the near foreseeable future, and seeing his brother like this had been a huge shock to his system. He'd never be able to forget that look on Dean's face, knowing that he had caused it, all of this. If only he'd been able to keep to himself, to not let his emotions take hold. Maybe then they wouldn't be in this mess. Dean and Maddie would be happy, and he would be too, knowing that he hadn't betrayed the only family he had left.

_Oh who was he kidding?_ If he had done that, he wouldn't have been happy. He would've been miserable and alone. With Maddie, in spite of all the sneaking around, he had been happy. Could he really say the same if he hadn't acted and instead concealed his true feelings? In all honesty, he didn't think hiding his feelings would have made much difference. Letting them build up for even longer instead of letting them out could have been possibly devastating, even more so than they had been already. He might have taken the cheat's way out, but at least this way, everything was now out in the open.

The only thing he had to do now was try and rebuild his and Dean's shattered relationship, which he knew was certainly not going to be easy. Betraying your brother by sleeping with his girlfriend was never going to be one of those "get out of jail free" moments. Still he was more than willing to sacrifice everything he had with Maddie for Dean to forgive him, or at least be able to talk to him without wanting to punch his lights out. He knew that the road to forgiveness would be a long one but if it ended with Dean being able to look at him again, he'd die a happy man, with Maddie or not.

As these thoughts and the image of Dean punching and kicking him in blind rage ran through his head, the darkness faded leaving nothing but white space. At first he thought it was just another dream, a mental prank being played on him by his mind that would soon dissolve back to black. But the minutes went by and the blinding whiteness was now fading around the edges, and he could even hear a faint beeping somewhere to on his left side. The fact that he could now distinguish between his left and right side encouraged him a little, and he now realised that the pain was originating from his stomach and chest, though now he could only feel a slight twinge high in his chest. _This has to be too good to be true, _he thought and made to shake his head in despair. But instead of feeling nothing and giving into the darkness, he felt his head move slightly before a harsh, stabbing pain ran between his temples. He groaned and this time the noise really did escape from his lips, sounding almost like a pin dropping in a silent room, and he never thought he'd feel so relieved to hear such a depressing sound.

"Morning, sunshine."

He stirred at the sound of the voice, attempting to move in the direction it originated from but only succeeding in awakening the rest of his dormant injuries, feeling in more pain than he thought was ever possible. He blinked, breathing a sigh of relief as the white light was still there, realising that the world wasn't just going to disappear when he closed his eyes. He tried to grin, but only managed a half smile before the bruises on his face screamed in agony for him to stop Again he tried to shift and sit up in his bed, but the rest of his body simply refused to co-operate and instead sent piercing daggers up through his legs and torso. _Note to self, moving equals bad_, he thought, resting his aching head back on the pillow. "A little help?" He whispered, shocked at how gruff and harsh his voice sounded.

"Sure, sorry."

He felt a cool hand reach under his neck and support his head, and another move around his waist as she shifted him slowly into a comfortable sitting position. Strands of blonde hair fell into his eyes as she groaned, her injuries still apparent as she shifted him upwards, every tiny movement causing both of them to wince in agony. Still supporting his back, she reached over and propped his pillows up with great difficulty before laying him gently against them and moving away quickly, unable to hide the agony in her face. She sat down in the chair next to his bed cautiously, and he realised that she couldn't be in a much better state than he was. The bruises and cuts stood out on her unusually pale face, and no amount of clothing could hide the scars and bandages twisting down underneath her jumper neck and sleeves. Her eyes, usually sparkling and full of life now seemed dull and lacklustre, as though the events of the last few days had weighed heavily on her spirit as well as her heart. He'd only seen her look this lost and childlike once before, and he'd hoped never to have to see her like this again. He attempted to smile again, only succeeding in receiving murderous twinges from his black and purple cheeks. "You look like I feel."

"Well you don't exactly look like an oil painting yourself." She replied, her grin quickly turning into a grimace as she shifted forward in her seat.

He tried to smile at her, but somehow the funny side of his situation had fallen flat. Looking down towards his legs, all he could see was bulky lumps hidden underneath a duvet from the neck down. Everything looked fine, but he knew that shooting pains and constant aching in every peripheral was never good. His head wasn't feeling too hot either, every slight movement making him feel as though his brain was being bashed against his skull. "How bad is it?" He asked, looking at her nervously.

Maddie shifted again in her seat, looking uneasily at him. "You've been out cold for five days. When they brought you in you had broken ribs, internal bleeding, the works. They said if you didn't come round after the surgery, you wouldn't come round at all…" She trailed off, tears glistening in her eyes.

"Dean?" He asked quickly, disregarding the details of his own injuries, instead caring only about his brother.

"He's gone."

"Gone where?" He demanded, sitting up quickly and soon regretting it as his chest and head cried out in anguish.

She shrugged, shaking her head carefully. "No idea. I haven't seen him since he came looking for you." She paused, glancing cautiously at the door. "The police are looking for who did this. They-"

"What did you tell them?" There was a sense of urgency in his voice now, the last thing he wanted was for Dean to be hunted down and arrested.

"Nothing. You really think I'd tell them Dean did this?"

He shook his head, leaning back against the pillows carefully. "Will they stop looking for him if I tell them I don't want to press charges?"

"No, they'll only get suspicious. No-one attacked so viciously would ever want the person who did it to them to get away..." Her eyes lingered on the stitches and bruises on his cheeks and forehead. "It's best just to leave it and hope they don't find anything incriminating. They're gonna want to talk to you though…"

He nodded, turning his head gently to the side and closing his eyes. "This is all my fault. If only I hadn't-"

"Hadn't what, Sam?" Maddie asked, glaring at him. "This is just as much my fault as it is yours. So don't go blaming yourself for this, it isn't your fault!" He made as if to say something, but she silenced him by touching her fingers to his lips. She grabbed his hand in hers, and looked pleadingly at him. "Don't, Sam. Please, just leave it. Dean has enough blame in him for both of us, so do we really need to torture ourselves too?"

He shook his head carefully, a tear rolling down his cheek. "All I want is for him to talk to me again. I don't care for forgiveness, I just want him to look at me again and not feel utterly revolted and deceived. Is that even possible?"

"Sure it is, but he just needs time. He'll come back soon enough." She smiled reassuringly at him, but she couldn't say she honestly believed this.

Sam nodded again, the tears flowing more freely down his face now. "You know I'd do anything to get him to talk to me again? Even give up everything with you?" He looked expectantly at her, anticipating a sudden enraged outburst or a flood of tears.

Instead she simply smiled at him and kissed his forehead gently. "I wouldn't expect any less."

He returned her smile, this time forcing his bruises and cuts into silence. "Are you going to be alright?" He asked, squeezing her hand comfortingly.

"Course I will. After all this damage I've caused, I'm more worried about you and Dean."

They sat in a comfortable silence for a moment, both engrossed in their own thoughts. Sam knew that the only thing he had to do was find his brother. He never thought he'd hear himself thinking this, but the demon behind Maddie's attack could wait. They'd tried to hunt this thing down once before and obviously failed, so the chances of them finding it now were even more remote. Right now, his relationship with Dean was teetering dangerously on the edge and if he just sat back and let it slip away, he'd lose his brother for good. "You know I'll always be here for you, right? And no matter how it looks now, Dean will be too."

She nodded and leant forward, placing her head on his chest as he drew his arms carefully around her. He tried to think positively, to have faith in what he had just said. But that little voice in his head couldn't help but gnaw away at all his doubts and fears. _What if he was wrong? What if Dean just disappeared and never came back?_

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The past few days had been gone by in a drunken haze, and now he was paying for it with one hell of a hangover. His head felt like he'd just taken a spin in a tumble dryer, and all he had to remember the weekend by was a few sketchy memories and a phone number written on a tatty napkin. He wanted to believe that the alcohol had washed away all of his troubles, but what he could recall didn't give him much hope in that theory. He kept getting flashes of standing on a bar and performing a striptease to 'Pour Some Sugar on Me' for the barmaid, which didn't go down too well with the mainly older, male patrons. He wasn't quite sure how far he managed to get, but he hadn't been able to find his favourite shirt ever since. The only other thing he could remember was getting into a brawl with a jukebox that refused to play Metallica, choosing Dolly Parton instead. He also had a vague recollection of sitting in bed throwing M&Ms at George Foreman commercials. Needless to say, the alcohol hadn't had quite the intended effect, unless that effect was to nearly get him arrested for drunk and disorderly behaviour.

The alcohol might have helped to soothe the pain at the time, but now the aftermath only drew attention to his aches and pains, both emotional and physical. The bruises on his hands had begun to fade, but even when they disappeared completely, he'd never be able to wash away the memory of what he did. He'd beaten his brother to within an inch of his life, and there was no coming back from something like this. That evil voice in his head kept telling him that Sam deserved everything he got, but his conscience knew differently. No matter how horribly Sam had betrayed him, nothing deserved such a vicious attack.

Trying to shake the thought of his brother lying scarred and in pain in a hospital bed, he switched the Impala's radio on as he worked through his hangover.

"…_and in other news, the police still have no leads on the culprit of a vicious attack on a young man outside the county hospital. The victim, 26 year old Samuel Winchester, is said to be in a critical but stable condition…"_

He snapped the radio off, glad to hear that Sam was doing okay but still troubled over the whole incident. His whole life he'd sworn to keep his younger brother safe and away from anything that could hurt him, but now _he_ was the one Sam should be kept away from. He'd jeopardised everything he and his father had worked for over the years, risking his brother's life over a girl.

He sped up a little, trying to avoid looking at anything that would remind him of his brother. Sighing, he turned the stereo on, grabbing the cassette closest to him and pushing it in. There was a loud click and silence for a moment until:

_I love you, I have loved you all along_

_And I miss you, been away for far too long_

_I keep dreaming you'll be with me and you never go_

_Stop breathing, if I don't see you anymore_

He yelped in dismay, ejecting the tape and flinging it into the backseat, but the damage had already been done. He'd tried his hardest to avoid songs like this, sticking instead to his beloved mullet rock, as these songs always had a tendency to make him think too much. He knew that no matter how much he thought about Sam and Maddie, he still loved her, he still loved both of them. Even now he missed her like mad, and he still wanted to find the thing that had nearly killed her. Yet he really didn't know how he was going to cope if the baby turned out to be Sam's. Could he honestly go on with his life, pretending everything was alright?

Dean swung the Impala into a deserted parking lot to his left, turning the engine off and just sitting there with his head in his hands. _Would_ he be able to cope if nothing turned out in his favour? He doubted it, but as they always say, everything has an answer. He reached over to the glove compartment and pulled out his gun, mesmerised by it's sudden appeal and beauty. Was suicide really the answer? And that voice inside his head chirped up to answer…_It could be…It can take away all the pain, all the hurt and be an end to this whole sordid affair…_

He pressed the muzzle against his temple, relishing the cool metal bearing down on his skin. He knew that many people considered suicide to be the coward's way out, and not long ago he would have been inclined to agree with them. But now, suicide seemed a lot less spineless as he had previously thought. To take your own life took a lot of bravery and courage, and was nothing more than a exit door to the doomed and desperate. Course it would be a lot more courageous to face up to the trials and tribulations of life, but to many that wasn't the answer they were looking for. He knew that all of his pain could go away with one shot, leaving his brother and girlfriend to deal with the consequences.

_But was he really that far gone? Was he willing to give up a life he'd worked so hard for? _He was at the point of no return, knowing that the decision he made now would be the most important of his possibly short life. Could he do it? Could he leave Sam, Maddie and a child that was possibly his to fend for themselves?

_No, no I can't…I've got so much more I want to do…I'm not finished with this life just yet_… He lowered the gun from his temple and placed it on the passenger seat. Breathing deeply, he turned the key in the ignition, never feeling so relieved to hear the deep rumble of the Impala's engine. _He couldn't leave them… not now, not like this…_He needed to go back to his brother, back to his girlfriend and tell them how he feels. That he loves them and even if he can't forgive them just yet, he always will love them. Besides, he owed Sam a heart felt apology and he wouldn't rest until his brother knew exactly how sorry he was.

He put the Impala into drive and sped off in the direction he had just come from, the gun now locked safely away in his glove compartment.

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Meanwhile a hundred miles away, Sam Winchester slept peacefully in his hospital bed, with Maddie passed out in the chair next to him. The nurse crept in silently, checking Sam's vitals without a sound, smiling at the calm expression on his face. As she tiptoed around Maddie's outstretched legs, she saw something move in the corner of her eye and spun round. There was nothing except the steady beep of the life support machine in the corner and the rain hammering down on the window. Shaking her head, she left the room and shut the door silently behind her.

In the bushes outside, he moved away from the window but kept his eyes fixed firmly on the two young people asleep inside. Getting both of them in the same place had been a pleasing surprise, but he needed the other one before he could finally put his plan into action. At first he had only wanted the girl, but having his attempts thwarted by the others, not once but twice, had severely altered his perception of things. Now he was no longer happy with just the girl. He wanted all three of them and wouldn't be content until each and every one of them was lying bloody and dying in front of his eyes. Until then, he'd let them have their arguments and fights. His time would come soon enough.


	9. No Promises

Not too sure on this chapter either guys, so please, please let me know what you think. It never goes unappreciated!

Thanks :)

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**Chapter 9**

"Mr Winchester, you really shouldn't be doing this."

"Yeah, I know, but surely I have a choice in the matter?" He leant gently on the desk, wincing as the pain shot up his arms. It had started to subside a little, though any sudden movements or pressure would send daggers through his nervous system.

The nurse shifted impatiently behind her desk, clicking her tongue disapprovingly. "Of course you do, all of our patients have the right to discharge themselves whenever they want. But considering your current condition Mr Winchester, I'd advise against it."

"What would you know about my current condition?" Sam snapped back, tapping his fingers irritably on the desk.

"I know exactly what Doctor Cameron told me." The nurse replied curtly, trying her hardest to tolerate the short-tempered young man in front of her. "She-"

"She would have told you that even though I'm not in perfect physical condition, I'm well enough to move around." He interrupted, his eyes wandering over her name badge, which read "Nurse Susan Benton" in large black letters.

"To move around yes, but not to completely discharge yourself from our care." She sighed again, sitting down in her chair and resigning herself to yet another long day. "Sir, you're in no fit state to leave this hospital. Look at you, you're still in a lot of pain! If you just stay here for another few days…"

Sam shook his head, scowling at her. All he wanted to do was leave the hospital, go to a motel and sleep, without being constantly scrutinised by overbearing doctors and nurses. "Look Nurse _Ratched_, will you please just let me go? I know you're only looking after my wellbeing, but you don't know what's best for me, okay?"

She groaned, finally nodding and giving in, not wanting to seem as sadistic and heartless as the counterpart he'd described her as. "Alright, but I still need to get the doctor to authorise this."

"And how long-"

"As long as it takes, Mr Winchester." She picked up the phone to her left and nodded at something behind him. "I suggest you take a seat, you might be waiting awhile."

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Nearly two hours later Sam emerged through the hospital's automatic doors, only to be greeted by a raging storm. "Perfect." He muttered, pulling his hood up and hovering impatiently in the doorway as the rain thundered down around him. His lift had failed to materialise and now he was stuck in the middle of a storm, miles away from their motel. Glancing around the parking lot, he saw no sign of a taxi rank so his only other options were to walk or try and hitch a lift. The gales were knocking him backwards and forwards as though he was nothing but a leaf in the wind, and the rain had already drenched him through without him even having to take a step out from under the shelter, so walking really was out of the question.

Sighing, he zipped up his jacket and stepped out from underneath the shelter. The wind and rain hit him immediately, almost knocking him clean off his feet. Grumbling to himself, he hitched his bag higher onto his shoulder, trying to ignore the fact that he was already soaked to his skin as he made his way to the main road. Ignoring the warm and inviting cars parked around him, he hurried towards the footpath and stuck his thumb out at the oncoming traffic.

Half an hour later, he was staring in dismay as every car passed him by without a second glance, though his drowned rat appearance couldn't have been helping matters. Annoyed at thirty minutes wasted that could have otherwise been spent walking back to the motel, he resigned himself to a long trek back unless a kind Samaritan decided to give him a lift, which seemed unlikely considering this afternoon's track record. He started to walk backwards, aiming to cover some ground whilst trying to hitch a ride, so immersed in his own thoughts that he didn't hear the car pull up behind him.

"Need a ride?"

He swung around, his jaw dropping as he stood swaying slightly on the spot, gaping at the driver. "Dean?"

"The one and only." His brother replied, smiling softly, although Sam noticed that the smile didn't quite reach his eyes. Sam gawped at him for a moment, the rain now soaking through his hood and dripping down his face. "Sam, I haven't got all day. Do you want a ride or not?"

Sam nodded silently, brushing his hair out of his eyes as he walked around the front of the Impala. He opened the passenger door with great difficulty and eased himself carefully into the seat, grimacing as he smacked his knee on the glove compartment. He groaned, rubbing his knee as he pulled the door shut, unaware that Dean was studying him carefully. He pulled his hood down, and now Dean could see how bad his injuries were. Cuts and scratches crisscrossed over his forehead and under his eyes, and he was covered in purple bruises. But that was just his face, there was no telling how badly he was injured everywhere else, though his constant grimacing and groaning seemed to give some indication as to just how bad it was. Seeing his brother like this, in such obvious agony, made Dean feel even more distressed and regretful than ever before. _I did this to my own brother?_ After all the years protecting Sam and making sure he was safe from harm, he'd put everything at risk for the sake of his own vengeance. A_fter everything Dad told me over the years, his last words as he lay dying in my arms… I've betrayed him, and what for? A few bruises, a drunken stupor and the knowledge that my little brother will never look at me the same again…_He kept an eye on Sam as he slowly took off his sopping wet jacket, sending a fine spray of water onto the dashboard. _I've failed Sam, I failed to save Dad…I'm a failure… But I can put it right… I _will_ put it right, I have to, even if it's the last thing I do…_

They sat in an uncomfortable silence for a few minutes as Dean started the car and pulled out onto the main road. The rain was starting to let off a little, and the dark clouds that had been threatening a thunderstorm had started to dissipate. _Typical, _Sam thought, resisting the urge to shake his hair out, knowing it'd only anger Dean further. He didn't want to do anything that would rile Dean more, he didn't even want to open his mouth in case he made a mistake and said something he'd later regret. _Not that there was anything he could say that could possibly make things worse than they already are, _he mused, glancing over at his brother, who was paying unusually due attention to the road ahead.

"Where to?" Dean asked as they pulled up at an intersection.

"Ummm… Ahhh… hold on a sec." Sam reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a crumbled piece of paper. "Uh… the Bates motel…" He finished, raising his eyebrows in amusement.

"Well that's ominous." Dean replied, grinning. "Make sure to watch out for creepy guys in women's clothing, okay?"

Sam burst out laughing and nodded. "Will do." He pressed his fingers to his temple, his sudden outburst of laughter causing white spots to appear in front of his eyes. They sat quietly again, Dean concentrating on his driving while Sam nervously folded and unfolded the piece of paper in his hands. His folding became more and more erratic as the streets flew past them, until he just couldn't carry on, ripping the paper to bits and turning to face his brother. "Dean, I-"

"Maddie supposed to pick you up, eh?" Dean interrupted, still keeping his eyes glued to the road.

Sam stumbled, not too happy at the interruption. "Uh… yeah, yeah she was. I guess she just forgot or something…"

Dean laughed incredulously. "Yeah, I'm sure that was it."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sam asked, shifting in his seat and looking suspiciously at his brother.

Dean glanced over at his brother as they stopped at a set of traffic lights. "Come on, Sam. Do you really think you can trust her after all of this?"

Sam glared defiantly at Dean, trying his hardest not to say anything that could provoke his brother further, but there were times when he just couldn't help it. "Yes, I do trust her. And you know why, Dean? Because I'm not the one she lied to."

The tension in the silence that followed was almost unbearable, and Sam could almost see the internal struggle going on in his brother's body as he battled hard to resist the urge to lash out again. He was gripping the steering wheel so tightly that his knuckles had turned white, and seeing how tortured his brother was made Sam immediately regret saying anything. "Look Dean, I'm-"

"Just forget it Sam." He held his hand up to silence Sam, shaking his head in exasperation. "Forget it, okay? If you're going to talk to me, then tell me everything. Tell me _why_, Sam. Tell me why you did what you did… And if you say the word 'sorry' one more time, you'll be out on your ass faster than you can say it again, alright?" He muttered, attempting to smile although they both knew that neither of them found any of this remotely funny.

Sam nodded, brushing pieces of paper off his lap as he shifted carefully in his seat. "You really want to know everything?" When he received nothing but an inconclusive shrug of the shoulders, he took a deep breath and carried on. "Fine, but you're not going to like it." He took another deep breath, reluctant to reveal any more than he already had. He knew that he'd have to tell Dean all eventually, but he never thought it'd be so soon. Dean was already devastated, did he really need to be made to suffer more?

"You've liked her all along, haven't you?" Dean asked, intruding on his thoughts, and Sam realised this wasn't the first time his brother had seemingly been able to read his mind.

Sam nodded, choking back another 'sorry' and instead satisfying himself by throwing Dean an apologetic look. "I never wanted to, and I just hoped that over time it'd go away. But it never did…"

"How long?"

"Err… how long what?"

"God dammit Sam!" Dean smacked his hands down hard on the steering wheel, accidentally hitting the horn and causing Sam to jump out of his seat. "How long has this been going on?"

"About four months." He replied quietly, watching in wonder as Dean's face remained neutral, although his knuckles were beginning to turn a ghastly shade of white again.

"When was the first time?"

"That week you left us to go check out a demon in New York, while we stayed in Michigan to get rid of that malevolent spirit…" His heart was racing frantically, as though it wanted nothing more than to break out of his chest and be free of him altogether. Part of him wished it would, as it was his heart that had gotten him into this mess in the first place. Without it he'd find it a lot easier to tell Dean everything, with nothing clambering at him, pulling at him, telling him what to say and what to do. Sometimes he found himself wishing he was heartless. _Though on second thoughts, being heartless also means being dead… _he thought, stifling a laugh.

"So when I left, you guys just decided to get it on?" Dean asked, glaring at Sam who shook his head violently, subsequently clutching it his forehead in agony.

"Dean, it wasn't like that."

"So tell me, Sam, what was it like?"

"I…ahhh…" He paused, gripping the door handle firmly as pain surged through his body like an electric current. "I asked her to read my mind, you know like she does?"

"What, and that made you decide to jump into bed together?" Dean scoffed, laughing in disbelief.

"No, I've told you it _wasn't_ like that! It was just that… that was the closest we had ever been, and I guess we just got carried away." He shrugged, trying his hardest to think of a more appropriate explanation for their actions, but finding nothing that would portray him and Maddie in a better light.

"So when I told you to look after her that week, you really took that to heart didn't you?" Dean asked sardonically.

"Oh come on Dean. You and I both know that Maddie is more than capable of looking after herself. If you had only backed down and let her go off on her own, none of this would have happened!"

Dean slammed his feet on the brakes, gaining great satisfaction at the shocked look on Sam's face as the tyres squealed to a stop on the blacktop. "You're unbelievable, Sam! You're actually blaming this on me? I'm not the one who couldn't keep my downstairs brain under control!" He would've happily carried on this tirade for hours, had he not noticed that Sam was now almost cowering against the window, looking more like childlike than ever before "God Sammy, I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything."

Sam pulled himself up from the window, fixing Dean with a inquisitive look. "What do you have to be sorry for? I'm the one who betrayed you, _I'm_ the one who lied to you. You don't have anything to be sorry for!"

"Don't I?" Dean asked, glancing over at his brother curiously as he pulled the Impala back out onto the road. "Sam, do you know what Dad said to me in that warehouse the day he died?"

Sam shook his head, trying his hardest to shake the picture of his Dad, lying broken and bleeding on the floor of a derelict warehouse, out of his head. He had been plagued with nightmares of his father's violent death for months afterwards, and even now, hardly a week went by without his father's face showing up in his dreams.

"He told me that no matter what, I had to look after you and Maddie. Looks like I'm doing a bang up job so far, eh?" Dean asked, laughing though he looked almost on the verge of tears.

"Dean, you're doing a great job. You've always looked after me, ever since I was a kid… You're my brother, I love you and I _always_ will, no matter how unpleasant I've made things." He made as if to touch Dean's shoulder, but was shrugged gently away.

"Sam, you need to know that I'll never completely forgive you for this. But I made a promise to Dad, and I'm going to make sure I look after you and Maddie, no matter what… Though you need to understand that if the baby is yours, I'll leave and never come back. There's a lot of things I can cope with, but that isn't one of them." His eyes were brimming with tears now, and he was trying his hardest to blink them back. "Until then, I'm afraid you'll have to put up with me for a little longer, if that's alright with you?"

Sam nodded, beaming at him. "Course it is, as long as you promise not to hit me again.."

"Sam, about that, I'm really-"

"I _know_, forget it okay? It's all in the past, and besides, I sort of deserved it." He smiled, finally feeling that he and Dean had achieved something out of this whole mess, even if things were never going to be the same again. He understood about Dean not being able to fully trust him again, he wouldn't expect any less. In fact he would have been shocked and worried if Dean had forgiven him so easily. _At least now everything's out in the open, we can finally get things back to normal. Or at least as normal as possible, all things considered…_

They sat in silence for a few moments as Dean pulled the Impala into the motel parking lot. Despite it's foreboding name, the Bates motel actually looked welcoming and homely, or as welcoming and homely as a motel could be. It looked as though everywhere had been given a new coat of paint, and someone had even gone so far as to place potted plants outside each room.

"So, you getting a little soppy in your old age, big bro?" Sam asked, grinning at him as he turned off the engine.

"Ha, you wish. Spare me the chick flick moments, okay?" Dean shot back, laughing as he climbed out of the car.

Sam joined in and for a moment it felt as though nothing had happened, that him and Dean were just out on another job, two brothers against the world. But then the real world came crashing down around him, their situation came flooding back and not for the first time, he found himself wishing that he could turn back time to erase his mistakes. "It's room number… ahhh… twelve, I think… maybe. Not sure, as I ripped up the piece of paper…" He blushed, pointing to a room directly in front of them.

"Well done, Einstein." Dean muttered, strolling over to the room and trying the door. "It's locked."

"Oh, yeah, she might have mentioned something about that." Sam replied, rushing over and checking the door again, earning himself an offended look from Dean.

"Dude-"

"Yeah I know." He began to search the area around the door and on the windowsill. "I'm sure she said there was a key around here somewhere…"

"Man, why can't we just knock on the door?"

"Because she could be asleep, and we wouldn't want to wake her up now, would we?"

"Umm.. no, course not…" Dean coughed, smirking as Sam pulled a key out from under the welcome mat. "Nice thinking, Batman."

Sam unlocked the door quietly, and pushed it open. "Not just a pretty face." He replied, grinning as they walked into the room.

"Ummm… dude? She's not here…" Dean muttered, glancing around the empty and unusually tidy room.

"Well thank you, Captain Obvious." Sam snapped back, walking over to the bed closest to the door and picking up a piece of paper. "She left a note." He mumbled, holding the paper out to Dean, who snatched if off him and read it quickly,

_Sam,_

_Have gone to the local library, thought I might have a lead on what attacked me. Should be back in time to pick you up, but if not, I'm sorry and I'll see you later._

_Ring me if you need me?_

_M x_

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After everything they had been through, she hated lying to Sam anymore than she did to Dean. But she had to do this, and telling Sam where she was going hadn't even been an option. She should have, as she needed his support now more than ever, but the words just hadn't wanted to come out. So instead she had made up some bogus story about having a lead, and drove straight past the library to the other side of town. It had taken her ages to build up the courage to go in, but now she was here, the door beside her suddenly looked very inviting.

No-one else in the waiting room was paying any attention to the bruised and pale woman sat near the door, and for this Maddie was glad. Trying to ward off questions about her injuries wouldn't help matters. She clasped her hands together, cracking her knuckles nervously. The little voice on her shoulder kept telling her to leave before it was too late. _There's still time to turn back, to leave and Sam would never be the wiser… _She glanced anxiously at the door again, crossing her legs to stop herself from racing out of there. She knew that she could still walk out of there, simply another no-show, but her conscience knew differently. _No, I have to stay. I have to do this… It's for the best, and Sam might not have to find out after all…_She rolled up her sleeve, submitting to the constant itch that had been nagging at her ever since they put the bandage on, completely oblivious of the nurse standing in front of her.

"Miss Moriarty?"

_This is it, crunch time… It's still not too late to leave before anyone else gets hurt… _Disregarding this last thought, she stood up nodded at the nurse, smiling cautiously. Following the nurse around past the desks, she eyed the door uneasily, knowing now that there was no going back.


	10. Hopeless

Okay, i really didn't expect to get this chapter up so quickly. Must have caught a bug or something... Anywho there isn't anything too exciting in this one, i actually honestly didn't expect the first part to go on for so long. But it wrote itself, which has to be a good thing, right? And i'm being nice to you guys. I could've left this one for a few chapters yet.. :D

Anyway, please let me know what you think, as always! Love you guys for it:)

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**Chapter 10**

"More coffee, honey?"

"No, thank you."

Smiling politely, the waitress moved away and back behind the counter, looking curiously at the young woman she had just spoken to. _Now there's a tortured soul if there ever was one, _she thought, helping herself to a glass of water. _Two hours and only one cup of coffee, hardly touched…_She shook her head sadly, moving onto another customer yet unable to take her mind off the battered and bruised woman at the corner table. She was trying her hardest to resist the temptation to go over there and talk to her, to take her hand and simply tell her that everything was going to be alright. Not that her actions would be completely altruistic in nature; She was a gossip hound and always would be, she'd even freely admit this if a bottle of rum had been doing the rounds. She loved nothing more than to have a drink with friends and chat about people whose lives were worse off than hers was, but this time she had a strange feeling that she could really help someone for a change. And Gwen Roberts was not one to pass up such an opportunity, whether her intentions were pure or not.

She finished serving her customer and walked back over to the corner table, bending down and looking straight at the young woman, who didn't so much as blink. "Excuse me, Miss? Please don't think I'm interfering and feel free to tell me to mind my own business, but you really don't look too good."

Maddie stifled a laugh, looking curiously up at the waitress. _Of course she didn't look too good, who would? _She thought, fingering the envelope sticking out of her bag. She'd still not plucked up the courage to open it, instead contemplating burning it, watching the paper fold and crumple, simply never knowing. But then the nerves and the butterflies would have all been for nothing, and she really did need to know, for closure, to finally know the truth, no matter how damning it would be. The butterflies were still fluttering around her stomach and the more she thought about it, the worse they became. The long stay in the waiting room had done nothing to calm her nerves, and walking into the doctor's office felt as thought she was walking into the dock, ready to be condemned. She never completely understood why she had to make an appointment, and had asked the doctor this, only gaining the words 'security' and 'confidentiality' from his mumbled reply. She supposed he thought it would be better getting the results handed to you personally instead of having them handed out as though they were simply leaflets given out on street corners, but he didn't realise how horrible the personal touch was. To be given the results from someone who knew why you were there, to feel their accusatory gaze when they looked you up and down, thinking they knew you before you had even opened your mouth. Knowing that they were looking at you in the same way they did everyone else who walked through the door, and even though her doctor never said anything of the sort, she knew he was thinking that she was just another stupid slut, sleeping with so many men that she didn't even know who the father of her baby was.

At first she had been appalled and disgusted at this, taking her results off of him without a word and leaving, knowing that he was still fixing her with that critical look even as she walked out of the door. But now as time passed by, her coffee getting colder by the minute, she realised he might have been right to judge her after all. She'd cheated on her boyfriend with his brother, so she had no grounds to be self-righteous. Maybe he had been right to think of her like that, or give her the impression that he was thinking of her like that. She had been so stupid to get involved in something like this, she should have known that following her heart instead of her head would always end badly. She should've just locked her heart in a box and hidden it from sight, that way no-one would get hurt, herself included. So maybe she was just a silly little girl who needed her head examined, not that the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She'd been tempted to visit a shrink, to find some explanation for her actions or at least an answer for what she should do. Yet she'd resisted, realising that most psychiatrists would put it down to her childhood and losing her family, even going so far as suggesting the Freudian approach, and this wasn't what she wanted to hear.

But now as she gazed up at the waitress, whose kindly face was marred only by scars from her long past youth, she realised that maybe she hadn't needed a shrink after all. Maybe all she needed was a friendly face to confide in, someone who wouldn't judge her on first glance. Perhaps it was time to take a chance and trust someone outside of her comfort zone, someone other than Sam and Dean. Not that she'd be able to get the words out to tell them this anyway, or that they, especially Dean, would want her to confide in them. So this waitress might be a blessing in disguise, despite any ulterior motives Maddie could tell she might have. No good deed these days came without strings attached, but Maddie found that she didn't care, simply grateful for someone neutral and impartial to talk to who wasn't going to jump down her throat the moment she found out what was going on. "How can you tell?"

The waitress smiled, sliding herself into the seat opposite with ease. "Well honey, I wouldn't like to blow my own trumpet, but that coffee you've got there is the best in the city, and you haven't had a drop!" Gwen beamed at her, glad to see a small smile playing on the young woman's lips. "Plus you look like seen a ghost and been in one heck of a fight all in one! Now…which one is it?" Maddie hesitated and Gwen must have seen something in her eyes, as she reached across the table and grabbed Maddie's hand, squeezing it gently. "Now honey, you don't have to tell me anything, think of me as an aging busybody if you will. But I just figured a pretty thing like you, sitting all alone in a place like this, looking as you are…Well something aint right… But if you don't want to confide in me, then I'm not offended. You just look like you need someone to talk to, is all."

She stood up and for a moment Maddie was just going to let her go, let the one person she could confide in just walk right out of her life. But then the sensible side in her finally came out, later than ever, and she grabbed hold of the waitress' hand. "Please… uh," Her eyes fell onto the waitress' name badge, "Gwen, please… don't go."

Smiling, Gwen squeezed her hand again and sat back down. "So let's start with the basics first. You already know my name, thanks to this god awful name badge. But do you care to tell me yours?"

"My name's Madolyn…Maddie." She replied, picking up her cup and taking a sip of her coffee as though it was simply second nature, forgetting about how long it had been there. "Urgh…" She choked, swallowing the ice cold coffee and sticking her tongue out in disgust.

"Here, sweetheart, let me get you a new cup." Gwen stood up and walked over to the counter, bringing two steaming cups of coffee back before Maddie could even blink. She grinned as Maddie took a sip of hers, nodding in satisfaction. "So, was I right?"

"Oh, no… not quite. I was in an accident a few weeks ago… and as far as I know, I haven't seen any ghosts!" She smiled, taking another sip of her coffee. She hated lying to the woman she was going to confide in, but somehow she didn't think the 'I was attacked by a bad ass spirit' answer would go down too well, even in a place like this.

Gwen nodded, picking up her coffee cup and glancing out of the window at the passers-by. "You ever wish you could be just like them? Walking by, too busy with their own lives to even glance at the people around them. Each in their own world, thinking their affairs are superior to everyone else's. I'd love to pass by my own life sometime, to just go by without a care… wouldn't you?"

"All the time… I just wish we could." Maddie replied pensively, following Gwen's gaze out onto the busy high street. She'd lost count of all the times she'd wished to leave her life behind, to forget all her worries and just start over.

"So, what's on your mind hon?"

Maddie hesitated for a moment, reaching for the envelope and holding it in her hand, trying to find the right words. "I… I…I'm having a bit of a dilemma. I did something I shouldn't have, and now I have to face up to the consequences."

"Ahhh…" Gwen nodded knowingly. "You fell in love with a man, you mean?"

Maddie gaped at her, never realising that it was so obvious. "How did you-?"

Gwen grinned at him, taking a long gulp of her coffee. "What can I say? It's a gift."

"Well, it isn't that simple." Maddie replied, tapping her fingers nervously on the desk. "I didn't just fall in love with one man, I fell in love with two."

Gwen raised her eyebrows in surprise, though the rest of her face remained startlingly neutral. "Wow, can't say I expected that one. I take it you're having trouble choosing between them?"

"Sort of. Although I think it's a little further along than that…"

"How do you mean?"

Maddie faltered again, looking out of the window once more at the shoppers, hurrying past without even a second glance. "They aren't just two random men… they're brothers."

This time the shock did register on Gwen's face, her coffee cup poised in front of her lips, unmoving. To her credit though, she didn't laugh, or even smirk. Instead she took Maddie's hand in hers again, smiling reassuringly. "Well honey, you've managed to get yourself into one hell of a mess, if you don't mind me saying… But I was wondering, are they handsome?"

Maddie laughed, the change of tack working brilliantly as she pulled a bent picture out of her purse. It was taken over a year ago, while John was still alive, and all three of them looked cheerful and happy, despite the circumstances. "The one on the left is, well _was_, my boyfriend, and the one on the right is his younger brother." She handed the photo over to Gwen, pointing as she spoke.

"My, my. I can see why you're having trouble choosing, they're both very handsome." Gwen replied, smiling as she handed the photo back. "Is that it? Or have things gone even further than that?"

_You've got to give credit to the woman, she knows her stuff_, Maddie thought, taking a gulp of her coffee. "No, that's not quite it. I'm going to give you the short version of this, as otherwise we'll be here all night. Basically after my accident, everything about the affair and the younger brother came out, and now I'm stuck facing the consequences." Not exactly the whole truth, but she needed to make sure she could really trust Gwen before pouring out the rest of the whole sordid story.

"So your boyfriend, well _ex_, knows everything? Take it he didn't react too well?"

"That's a bit of an understatement." Maddie muttered, images of Sam lying broken and bruised in his hospital bed running through her head. "He beat his brother so badly that he nearly killed him…"

Gwen gasped, nearly choking on her coffee. "He did what! Over a little thing like this?"

"Well it isn't really a little thing…"

"Of course not _that_ little, but surely he must have another reason for doing that to his poor brother?"

Maddie bit her lip and pulled the envelope out of her bag, laying it down on the table. "He does have another reason." She whispered, unable to take her eyes away from the offending item in front of her. "I'm pregnant, and I don't know who's baby it is… I confided in his brother, and of course when I had the accident, everything came out…" Tears were welling in her eyes now and she blinked, trying her hardest to be strong and not give up.

"Oh my, you poor thing!" Gwen exclaimed, now taking Maddie's hand in both of hers. "And is that-?"

"Paternity test results, yes."

"Do you not want to know?"

Maddie paused, contemplating her answer. Did she want to know? She honestly didn't know. Who would, considering the dilemma she was facing when she finally opened that envelope. "I don't know. Part of me wants to open it so at least I'll _know_. But the rest of me wants to leave it and never find out, especially as it's going to cause even more heartache."

"Can I give you my opinion?" Gwen asked, looking searchingly into Maddie's eyes as she nodded. "I think that if you get rid of these results, you'll be kicking yourself for the rest of your life. Not knowing is always worse than knowing in my book, as at least then you'll be able to move on and make plans for your future, for your baby's future."

Maddie nodded, tears now flowing freely down her cheeks. "But what if it doesn't say what I want it to say?"

"Why? Honey, who do you want the father to be?"

"I… I want it to be my ex's. As I've hurt him enough with this whole thing, and at least this could be one good thing to come out of the whole mess." She wiped the tears from her cheeks and pulled her hand away from Gwen's grasp, picking the envelope up and twirling it around her fingers.

"Maddie hon, please don't get offended by this, but do you want this baby?"

Maddie frowned, staring down at her coffee cup. "At first, I didn't. I was too worried about who the father was to even consider keeping it. But now I've realised that it doesn't matter who the father is, this is my baby and I'll love it no matter what."

"Even if the father-"

"Even if the father isn't around." Maddie smiled reassuringly, though this was more to comfort herself than Gwen, who was now looking over at the counter in distress.

"Honey, I'm going to have to go. The boss keeps giving me evil looks, the wicked man that he is, and it's more than my job's worth to tell him where to go! You gonna be okay?" Gwen stood up and walked around to Maddie's side of the table.

"Yeah, I think I am."

"That's good to hear. You take care now." Gwen gave Maddie a quick hug and flounced off towards the counter, winking back at her as she approached a balding, angry looking man.

Laughing to herself as Gwen received what looked to be a severe telling off, Maddie continued twirling the envelope in her hands. _This is it, now or never_… She still had time to change her mind, but she now realised that she didn't want to. She _wanted_ to know who the father was. It might not be good news, but at least she'd know. The hard part would be when it came to telling Sam and Dean.

She carefully ripped the top of the envelope and cautiously pulled out the folded piece of paper. As she unfolded it, she found herself wondering how many other people had their lives torn apart by a single piece of paper. She set the page down on the table, unaware that Gwen was watching her searchingly from across the counter, shocked to see such a neutral expression on her face. As she read further down the page, her expression never changed, although Gwen was sure a small smile had played on her lips for a split second. Breathing heavily, Maddie drained the rest of her coffee and stood up, unceremoniously folding the paper and shoving it into her bag. She threw Gwen a quick smile as she left the diner, but aside from that, her neutral expression never faltered.

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"Dude, she's taking a long time." Dean said, grabbing the tv remote and flicking through the channels. "Crap, crap and crap…" He muttered, finally deciding on an old Godzilla movie. "Sam? Hey Sam?" He sat up, and glanced over at Sam, who was fast asleep in the chair by the window. Sniggering, he stood up and walked over to the desk, aiming to try and pick up where Sam left off, despite researching not being his thing. He grabbed their Dad's journal and any other notes Sam had made and stumbled back over to the bed. "Go Godzilla, go!" He exclaimed, punching the air and knocking the journal off the bed as he did. "Damn," he muttered, reaching over to pick it up and reluctantly waving goodbye to Godzilla.

He glanced over at Sam again, feeling another small twinge somewhere in his chest. Every time he looked at Sam lately, he couldn't help but feel that something was wrong. Other than his beaten up appearance and the fact that he'd slept with his girlfriend. No matter how hard he tried, Dean just couldn't let this go. Not that any sane person would, but he wanted to, for the sake of his brother if no-one else. He'd never admit to anyone just how much his brother and girlfriend's betrayals had hurt him and if it wasn't for his promise to his father, he'd probably be anywhere but here right now.

Trying to shake these thoughts from his mind, he opened the journal and pulled up Sam's notes. It was the same as it had been eighteen months ago. No leads, no clues, nothing. Back in Stanford, they'd used the EMF and been able to find out that it was a spirit, but that was as far as their knowledge went. In fact they only thing they had managed to put together was that all of it's victims were female. They'd also assumed it was local and scanned all local records trying to find something that matched the spirit's M.O, but again they'd come up blank. It was as though the spirit they were hunting didn't exist, or didn't want them to find it. Whatever it was, it was dangerous. It had managed to murder nearly half a dozen students before disappearing, for what they had thought would be for good.

Yet it had come back and seemingly even more powerful than before. He could remember walking into the rooms of one of the victims back in Stanford and hoping that he would never have to see a sight like that again. The coppery smell of blood had been almost overwhelming, and the victim had looked unrecognisable with numerous deep cuts and scratches running across her face. Compared to them, Maddie had gotten off lightly, as she still had her life.

Flicking through the newspaper cuttings of all the previous victims, he found nothing that stood out that hadn't done so before. He had almost decided to give up when he spotted something scrawled at the bottom of the page in Maddie's slanted handwriting:

_Jeffrey Kinver_

_Jeffrey Kinver? Who the hell is he?_ He flicked through the journal and newspaper cuttings again, finding nothing that would indicate who this Kinver person was. Reluctantly he reached for the laptop, turning it on as he stared at the name written on the piece of paper, hoping some kind of inspiration would come to him. Jeffrey Kinver? Was this who Maddie's lead was? _They'd spent months trying to figure out who this was, and she'd found it in an afternoon?_ As good as she was, this was highly unlikely, even for her. He wasn't quite sure why but when he looked at this name, Dean suddenly felt a strange, ominous sensation in his stomach, and he kept thinking that nothing here was what it seemed.

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Okay, so the test thing... not too sure on that. Can't say i've had many prenatal paternity tests myself. In all honesty, i've only ever seen a paternity test carried out in Nip/Tuck, which was postnatal so not exactly the same thing. So i searched the net, got a bit of info and made things up as i went along. I figured that they wouldn't just let you pick the results up or have them posted.. but hey, it anyone knows different then let me know!

Thanks :)


	11. Skeptics and True Believers

Alright, Chapter 11 for your perusal. Not too sure on this chapter guys, i have a feeling some of it's a bit.. iffy? So please let me know what you think. Also, if you notice any glaring spelling mistakes, double words, etc let me know? As i'm half asleep and although it looks alright to me, i could be missing something...

Thanks, as always :)

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**Chapter 11**

The two brothers slept peacefully in their motel room, one slouched uncomfortably in a chair by the door, the other lying face down on his laptop, papers strewn around his head. Neither of them stirred and for this he was glad, knowing that even though they couldn't see him, he didn't want to risk anything, just in case. He had never erred on the side of caution before, his past crimes more than enough to illustrate this, but these two were a force to reckon with, and he wasn't going to make any mistakes. For now he was simply content to watch, to look at them and feel as if he could almost taste their blood flowing down his throat, it's liquid warmth giving him a thrill that nothing else could satisfy. He'd developed a penchant for blood over the years, it's sickly sweet coppery smell first tempting him and leading him astray. Not that the taste of blood could ever surpass the thrill of the kill. He wanted nothing more than to walk into the room and rip each of them apart, feeling immense pleasure as he tore away at their skin, rendering them helpless and almost unrecognisable as the floor around turned a sickening shade of red.

Licking his lips, he threw the boys one last look of longing, resisting the carnal urges trying to lure him inside. Taking them both while they were sleeping, though easier, wasn't in his plans. Sure he'd be able to take them, probably even kill them without working up an appetite. He'd have a better chance jumping them while they were asleep, but it'd all be useless without her. Yes, he _could_ take the risk and hope that she came after them alone and unarmed, but the chances of that happening were second to none. Even when emotionally challenged and in times of anxiety, she was still good, and he wasn't willing to risk everything over a momentary weakness. No… he'd wait and abide by his plans, they'd come to him soon enough. He'd just bide his time, taking it step by step until his schemes finally fell into place, when the real carnage would begin…

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Not long afterwards, Maddie pulled up to the hotel, so engrossed in her own thoughts as she got out of the car that the old Chevrolet Impala didn't even come into her field of vision until she nearly walked into it, cursing under her breath and slamming her hand down on the trunk. Glancing quickly at the license plate, she walked towards their room, still eyeing the car curiously as she fished her key out of her bag and opened the door.

She closed the door behind her, hearing a loud click and groaning as she turned towards the room, her jaw dropping. She'd been expecting many things; Sam passed out on the bed, him reading notes or searching the net. She'd even expected him to not be there at all. But to walk in and see Dean staring groggily at her, the shape of the laptop keys imprinted on his forehead, had knocked her for six, and all she could do was gawk right back at him.

"Maddie?" She jumped, spinning around and noticing Sam stood by the table. "You okay?"

"Yeah, course… I'm fine." She shrugged him off, instead fixing her gaze back on Dean. "Dean, what-"

"Can we just leave this until tomorrow?" Sam interjected, looking pleadingly between Maddie and his brother. "Please?" He added, when Maddie looked as though she was about to protest. Reluctantly they both nodded, and Sam breathed a huge sigh of relief. _Disaster averted, _he thought, feeling as though he deserved a beer or at least a pat on the back, but content in the knowledge that Maddie and Dean weren't going to tear each other to pieces, at least not today.

"Maddie, who's Jeffrey Kinver?" Dean asked, looking up at her curiously as he collected the papers from around his head.

"Who?" She enquired, taking off her jacket and collapsing on the empty bed.

"Jeffrey Kinver."

"Who's he?" Sam interrupted, leaning heavily against the table.

"I don't know Sam, that's why I asked! Stop being a damn space cadet and listen for a change…" He muttered, scowling at his brother. "Who is he, Maddie?"

She pondered this for a moment, a vacant expression on her face, and Sam could almost picture the tumbleweeds blowing around in her head. "How should I know?"

Sighing, Dean stood up and shoved the piece of paper in Maddie's hands, pointing towards the bottom of the page. "Because you wrote his name, here."

Maddie frowned, pulling the piece of paper closer to her face, screwing her eyes up. "That's my writing, but I didn't write that."

"What do you mean you didn't write it? You must have." Sam retorted, striding over and grabbing the page off her, studying it closely.

"I'm telling you Sam, I didn't write that. It may be my handwriting, but I don't remember writing it."

"Oh come on Maddie! You must have written it!" Dean exclaimed impatiently, sitting heavily back down on his bed. "Are the hormones affecting your memory now too?"

Sam took a sharp intake of breath and glanced nervously from Dean to Maddie. She was fuming, colour rushing to her usually pale face while Dean looked on, smiling smugly. It seemed that the disaster he had tried to prevent had decided to try again with a vengeance, and Sam had a feeling he wouldn't be able to stop this one with a quick change of tack, instead resigning himself to yet another long night.

"What's that supposed to mean?" She threw back, folding her arms defensively across her chest.

"Well I just thought that a person in your… uh… condition, might get emotional or forgetful, especially in such a time of stress… Your hormones are probably why you got yourself into this mess after all…" He finished, throwing his arms out and indicating from him to Sam, smirking.

"You think I slept with Sam because I was pregnant and hormonal? You're unbelievable, and not to mention, a complete idiot!"

"Well you get like that when you've had your heart ripped out!" He exclaimed, slamming his fists down on the bed and glaring at her. The silence that followed was deafening, and Sam could feel his heart sinking. Dean would never admit something like that, usually so guarded about his emotions and what he was thinking. Hearing his brother say this felt like a knife in his heart, and he really hoped that Dean and Maddie could get past this. After everything all he wanted was for them to make up, even if it meant he was unhappy, as at least his conscience would finally leave him be. "You're a heartless bitch! What the hell did I even see in you?" Dean was glaring at her with such a look of revulsion that Sam couldn't help but cower for her, amazed at how she was still managing to stand up against him after such a harsh tirade. "Well, all I can say is that I hope you're happy now!"

"Course I'm not happy, why would I be?" Maddie snapped, distress registering on her face when all Dean could do was remain silent and raise his eyebrows challengingly. "Oh, you know what Dean?" She stood up, tears now running down her face and her breathing irregularly in between the sob. "Fuck you. Believe and say what you want, but I'm sure as hell not going to stay around and listen to it. You can just go to hell!" She gave him one last seething look before running towards the door, pushing Sam forcibly of the way and storming outside.

"Dude, that was harsh." Sam stated, raising his eyebrows and looking critically at his brother. He was trying his hardest to avoid saying anything that would make him appear as though he was taking sides, but Dean's treatment of Maddie was severe, even for him. They both deserved this treatment, not just her. _Why was Dean giving her such a hard time, yet he'd forgiven him virtually easily?_ He just wanted to shake his brother and say, _Dean, please… don't do this, you'll only regret it… you love her, you know you do… don't throw everything away because of me…_But he couldn't, even on the rare chance that Dean would actually listen. His brother was one hell of a stubborn bastard, but Sam hoped that this time Dean would finally open up fully and let one of them in, for all of their sakes.

"She deserved it."

Sam made a small noise of dissent and turned away from him, words failing him and all he could do was shake his head in exasperation.

"What? She did!" Dean insisted, though he didn't look quite as convinced as before.

"Whatever, man. Ruin what's left of your life if you want." Sam replied, appalled at how his brother was acting. "Dean, you have a chance to make things better… are you just going to let this slip away?"

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Her face was burning and the tears were still stinging her cheeks as she stumbled over to the car. She'd sworn to herself that she wouldn't cry over this anymore, that she'd stay strong as the worst was over. But hearing Dean lay into her so ruthlessly, not seeming to care about her feelings, had just sent her over the edge. Now all she wanted to do was get as far away from him as possible, to rid herself of the mental torture and anguish that she had been coping with long before her attack.

Now wiping the drying tears from her face, she rummaged through her bag and pulled out her keys, fumbling them and watching in dismay as they fell to the floor. Muttering cursively, she bent down to pick them up but another hand got there first. Gasping, she jumped and looked up into a pair of familiar hazel eyes.

"I thought you might need a hand."

"Not from you." She replied, prying the keys out of his hand and making as if to open the car door, pausing when he grabbed her arm, the metal of his ring feeling cool and unusually calming against her skin.

"Will you hear me out?" Dean asked, his eyes fixing on her, his gaze never faltering. "Please?" He added pleadingly, as he noticed her fingers inching towards the car door.

Sighing, she nodded and relaxed her hand, knowing that this was a bad idea, but not being able to help herself. She'd been taken in by his eyes many times before and although she'd never reveal this to him, his puppy dog eyes were getting almost as good as Sam's. _Won't be long until he's got that look down perfectly… _She thought, looking away from him and down at her feet. She'd always been a sucker for eyes, she could never resist those heart-rendering looks of persuasion. _Especially_ those from Sam and Dean.

"Fancy going for a walk?" He asked, loosening his hold on her arm yet not letting go completely, his fingertips gently brushing the side of her arm. "As I don't think either of us can be trusted to drive right now…"

"Blaming it on my hormones again?" She threw back, scowling at him and moving as if to open the car door again, causing him to once more tighten his grip on her arm.

"Will you please just stop?" Dean implored, pulling her round to face him full on. "I'm trying to apologise here, and you're just throwing it back in my face!"

She faltered and stopped resisting, her arm falling limp in his grasp. "What'd you say?"

"I wanted to say that I'm sorry for how I treated you in there. I'm mad and you know that, but that's no excuse for what I said…" He smiled timidly at her, letting go of her arm and stepping backwards, motioning for her to follow him. All he wanted to do was explain to her how he was feeling, to be civil with her instead of going off the rails as he had done back in the hospital. He needed to be straight with her, to tell her exactly what was going on inside his head and not to shy away. He hadn't noticed before, having been too mad at her to care, but now he became aware of how pale she was, and how even a week later, the bruises and cuts on her face had only faded slightly. He never realised how fragile she was before, now knowing that he wasn't the only one suffering because of this. Part of him wanted to just take her in his arms, to hold her close and wipe away her tears, making sure everything would be alright. _But it won't be alright… _The cynical voice in his head chirped up, and even though he tried to swat it away, the voice just wouldn't budge. No matter whether he forgave Maddie or not, he'd never be able to look at her in quite the same way again. Whenever he held her, whenever he was with her, he'd never be able to get the image of her and Sam together out of his head, and even though he'd never seen them together, the pictures in his head were so vivid that he was starting to think that he had. But despite all this, there were times when he could still look at her in longing, still seeing the girl he fell in love with. _But you can't trust her, you know you can't! Don't fall for her lying again… _However this time, Dean finally shut the voice out, determined to rid himself of it's constant pessimism and follow his heart.

She smiled, bowing her head and following him past the car and towards the road. "You were a little harsh," She conceded, glancing nervously at him, "But I really did deserve it. In all honesty, I wouldn't hate you if you never spoke to me again."

He smiled and shook his head, grabbing her comfortingly round her waist as he often used to, though this time it only felt awkward and unnatural. Trying to shake this feeling off, he let go of her and folded his arms over his chest. "To tell you the truth, I had wanted to leave and never come back, but-"

"You know neither of us would have blamed you if you had. We would've missed you, but I can't say we would've been surprised…"

"I couldn't leave though," He replied, shrugging his shoulders helplessly. "I just couldn't… I made a promise, I wasn't going to break that."

"What promise?"

But he barely heard her, his thoughts going back to a deserted car park and the then welcoming feeling of cold metal against his skin. He could almost feel the muzzle pressed against his temple again, and he closed his eyes, breathing in and smelling the rich scent of the Impala's seats. What would have happened if he had pulled the trigger? The intense momentary pain, his life flashing before his eyes and then nothing. There'd be nothing left of him except a blood spattered car, a rotting corpse and a reputation in tatters. Maybe suicide wasn't such a good idea after all, and he felt much better knowing that he'd not given into temptation and taken the easy way out. _Even taking into account what Sam and Maddie had done, he couldn't have left them like this… I'd never would have been able to leave Sammy to pick up my mess, he wouldn't have been able to cope… The same way I wouldn't be able to cope if my little brother had suddenly decided to blow his brains out…_He shook his head to rid himself of a horrible image that had suddenly occurred to him, his brother lying motionless on a bed, a small hole in his temple and surrounded by blood. It wasn't a picture he cared to see again.

"Dean?" She placed her hand on his arm, stopping and looking at him in concern.

"What? Oh… right… sorry." He smiled apologetically, glancing down at her hand. "Maddie, you need to know something." He removed her hand from his arm, but didn't let go.

"What? What is it?"

"I've said the same to Sam, but I can't stay if the baby's his. You understand that, right? I just won't be able to cope."

She nodded, squeezing his hand softly. "Course I understand. God Dean, I'm sorry. No matter how many times I say that, it'll never be enough. If only I could do something to make this-"

"Stop, please." He pressed his fingers against her lips, watching forlornly as the tears rolled down her cheeks. He pulled her towards him, wrapping his arms around her and holding her closely, whispering into her ear. "It'll be alright, I promise you." He hoped that this would turn out to be true, for his sake more than hers. He wanted nothing more than to forget about the whole mess and start over, but it just wasn't possible. So instead they'd have to take it slowly, his trust in her being built up again little by little. Now even the slightest embrace felt awkward, and he yearned to go back to the time when this was simply second nature. He _knew_ that he'd never be able to completely forgive her, he understood that now. But right now he'd be able to cope with being able to look at her, be with her and not think of his brother. He could live with that, couldn't he?

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Sam pulled the curtain closed as they walked off towards the main road, a small smile on his face. They might not be best of friends for a long time yet, but it was a start at least, and he was finally glad Dean had seen sense. It hurt him to see his brother with the girl he loved, but he loved Dean more and always would. But it was a pity that all of this needed to happen for him to finally realise how much his brother meant to him. Seeing Dean so broken and unhappy, knowing that he was the reason for it, was breaking his heart.

Trying not to linger on these thoughts, he opened up the laptop and pulled his papers towards him. He hadn't noticed Maddie's written note at the bottom before, yet he was sure he'd gone over these papers with a fine toothcomb before, and come up with nothing. Sure he'd been tired, but he couldn't have missed something like that, surely? Frowning, he now typed the name 'Jeffrey Kinver' into the internet search engine, tapping his fingers impatiently as he waited for something to come up.

His thoughts now turned to the mysterious Jeffrey Kinver, and how his name had managed to pop up on their notes. If Maddie was to be believed, then something wasn't quite right. Names didn't just appear on paper, even in their messed up world. They'd spent months trying to find this thing, and the name popping up on a piece of paper just days after another attack wasn't a coincidence. He knew that something was seriously wrong here, but what he couldn't be sure… not until they found more out about Kinver.

Speaking of which, the search engine finally loaded his results, and he could feel his jaw dropping as his eyes moved across the screen. The pictures that had popped up were horrific and gory, even to his standards, and he had to turn away, unable to bear their accusatory gaze any longer. Swallowing his disgust, he turned back to the screen and started to read up on Jeffrey Kinver, trying his hardest to ignore the gnawing feeling of dread in his stomach.


	12. Bleed For Me

Just a quick note to say thank you to all of you who have reviewed so far! It means a lot to me, and i don't want to get all chick flicky on you guys... but it does!

Anywho, hope you like this chapter. I quite like the start, but the ending i think kinda sucks. I'm not too keen on the talking chapters, i mean i know you've got to find things out at some point, but hey... i still think i could've worked this better, but how is beyond me right now. Oh and the middle bit, blame Kat - her fic got me thinking of it! You'll see what i mean when you read it... It's a little bizarre, but you should know by now.. i'm a little bizarre. I like throwing random things in it :D

Hope you like, and please let me know what you think, as always! Thank you :)

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**Chapter 12**

She looked up at him, petrified and tears rolling down her face as he slashed away at her skin, screaming in agony as it ripped and tore, blood pooling out onto the floor. He watched her twist and turn away from his grasp, shuffling away with her hands and feet bound, creating a bloody trail behind her. _No… no… stop it, please… this isn't me… don't hurt her… _He jogged after her, bringing his foot down hard on her arms, hearing a bloodcurdling snap and picturing the bone splintering beneath her skin as she cried out in pain. Pulling out his knife, he brought it down again and again, it's point tracing down her cheek, a small line of blood appearing in it's place. _No… stop… STOP! _He lifted her head off the floor, tasting the blood on her cheek before slamming her head back down on the floor, a grin spreading across his face as her blonde hair slowly began to turn a nasty shade of red. Satisfied, he carried on with his attack, cast off from his knife coating the walls and furniture in blood as she became more despondent and less resistant, her body going limp under him and her breathing becoming more laboured by the minute. _No, stop it! Stop… she's dying… let her go! _

"Sam? Sammy?" Dean rolled out of bed and walked over to his younger brother, who was tossing and turning in his bed, bathed in sweat with the sheet wrapped around his legs.

"No… no… please…stop!" Sam moaned, writhing away from Dean's grasp, fighting hard against an invisible foe. "You're killing her!"

Slowly he brought the knife up level with his face, sticking out his tongue and catching a few blood drops, savouring the sickly taste as they rolled down his throat and dripped onto the floor, camouflaged in the now maroon carpet. He looked down at her unconscious body, fighting the small smile that was forcing itself upon him as he watched her chest rise and fall unevenly, the blood seeping out from everywhere he laid his eyes on. He retracted the knife back into his pocket, deciding a slow and painful death was much more fitting than the mercy he'd shown the others. He took one last fleeting glance at his most prized conquest, his eyes moving hungrily over the inches of exposed flesh of her stomach and thighs, those long repressed carnal desires taking another lunge for freedom. _Don't you touch her you son of a bitch, don't you dare…_Though no matter how tempting the spoils were, he refused to touch her, instead relishing the taste of her blood and how good it felt to see the life draining out of her. So now as he passed the bathroom mirror, he paused to stare into his own grey eyes, lingering on the deep purple gouge in his neck…and now suddenly not giving into his animalistic urges and simply leaving her to suffer seemed like the most rational decision he'd ever made…

"Sam! Come on Sammy, wake up!" Dean grabbed his brother's flailing arms and pinned them down, trying his hardest to wake Sam up though knowing that his efforts were futile, that a person can rarely be woken from such an intense nightmare. Instead he resigned himself to another sleepless night, sitting down next to his brother's restless body and laying a cool, reassuring hand on Sam's forehead. _God Sam, I thought you'd practically stopped having these nightmares… or at least gotten better at hiding them from me…_He let out an exasperated sigh, glancing over at Maddie's still form in the other bed, yet still keeping a watchful eye on his brother. Despite the talk he and Maddie had earlier, despite the reassurances, the tension and static in the small space between them in the bed had been almost unbearable. Each on their own sides of the bed, backs facing each other with the small space in between them feeling as large as a canyon. Part of him wanted to take her in his arms, to hold her to rid them of the horrible friction and emptiness, but he couldn't. He'd been too surprised by her wanting to stay in the same bed at all, half expecting her to suggest another room or, god forbid, even staying with Sam. But she hadn't, and he hadn't wanted to tempt fate by even bringing the subject up, content in his belief that things were finally starting to look up.

"Urgh…" Sam grunted and sat bolt upright, staring straight ahead, his eyes wide with shock. He paid no attention to Dean, to what was pinning him to the bed, instead wrenching himself loose and pulling himself to his feet. "Urgh…" He groaned again, nearly toppling over his own feet as he untangled the sheet and ran towards the bathroom, slamming the door shut behind him

"Sam? Sammy, you alright?" Dean jumped up, hurrying anxiously to the bathroom door, slightly bewildered by his brother's reaction. He pressed his ear against the door, his anxiety turning to unease as he heard the faint sounds of his brother coughing and retching. "Sam, talk to me. You okay?"

The lock on the bathroom door clicked, the hinges creaking as Sam pulled the door open. "I'm good." Though his pale face, tousled hair and gasping breaths seemed to suggest otherwise.

"Liar." Dean folded his arms across his chest and stood in the doorway, barring Sam's exit. "No person that has a nightmare and throws up after it ever feels good, Sam… I thought you stopped having these?"

"I _did _stop having them… until about a couple of weeks ago…" He paused, elbowing Dean in the stomach, who reluctantly moved out of the way, gasping in pain and watching his brother closely as he collapsed back down on the bed. "How bad was it?"

For the moment, Dean chose to go with Sam's blatant subject change, smiling wickedly at his brother, himself trying for a change of tack.. "It was bad enough, I mean you were screaming like a little girl… And I'm sure you shouted something about munchkins at one point…" Dean grinned, fighting hard to keep a straight face as Sam frowned, his eyebrows furrowing as he looked over, his eyes blank

"Munchkins?"

"Yeah dude, like in the Wizard of Oz… Such a classic." Dean's eyes misted over and he began to hum 'Somewhere Over The Rainbow' quietly as he gazed off at a point just over Sam's left shoulder.

Clearing his throat, Sam waved his hand in front of Dean's face, unable to hide his amusement, "Sure… whatever, man."

"You don't think so?"

"Oh come on, it's overrated, and annoying as hell...I mean, when I was at school, people kept asking me if I clicked my heels together to get home…"

"Haha well you know what they say about home… there's no place-"

"Don't even go there, or I swear to god I'll sit you in front of that movie until your eyes bleed."

"Alright, alright." Dean replied, holding his hands up and smiling merrily. "But I know you keep those sparkly red shoes somewhere…" He nudged Sam's leg as he sat down on the bed, and although his brother smiled, he seemed distant and was staring at Maddie sleeping in the opposite bed. "Sam, what's wrong?"

"Do you know how close she was to dying?" Sam asked, burying his head in his hands and not bothering to wait for a reply. "I saw what he did to her Dean, the same as he did to all of his victims. I saw everything as th-"

"How many victims?"

Sam ignored this, running his hand through his hair and flexing his fingers anxiously. "I saw it happen as though I _was_ him, Dean, I _was_ Jeffrey Kinver. I did what he did, I felt what he felt. He drank her blood and I can still taste it in my mouth, I can still smell it on my hands…"

"And you think you're to blame for this?" Dean demanded, grabbing Sam's arm to get his full attention. "Sam, this isn't your fault! You didn't hurt her and you never will, you hear me? None of this is down to you, it's because of that bastard Kinver, and I swear to you, we'll make him pay."

Sam completely disregarded most of Dean's speech, holding his hands out in front of him as though he was expecting them to be covered in blood, and for a moment, they actually were. He could almost feel the tacky, wet substance between his fingers whenever he moved, the dark red shining in what little light the room provided. Then he blinked and the blood disappeared, reality coming crashing back down and he realised he was back to just being Sam, the one without grievous bodily harm on his conscience. "Who say's I'm not to blame?"

"I do, Sam! As I _know_ you're not to blame, and until I find you standing over someone with a knife in your hand, there's nothing you can do to convince me otherwise!"

"I'm not saying I stabbed her Dean," The image of Jeffrey Kinver… _me_… ran in front of his eyes, he watched as he drove the knife repeatedly into her flesh, the sickening sound of skin tearing and being ripped apart echoing in his ears as the blood pooled out like water onto the carpet. A shiver ran down his spine, as though the ghost of Jeffrey Kinver himself was taunting him, pushing him to his limits, "I'm just saying that I… I… I could have stopped her from getting hurt at all…"

Dean scooted forward on the bed, frowning in concern. "Sam, what do you mean? What's going on?"

Sam held his head in his hands, groaning as he raked his fingers over the cuts that twisted up from his forehead and disappeared underneath his hair. "I had a vision that this was going to happen to her, _weeks _ago…"

"And you just decided not to mention it?"

"No, Dean, of course I didn't. It's just that it didn't feel like a vision, it was more like… a dream… I just thought it was the same as the vision I had back in Stanford, triggered by what's been going on. I didn't for once think that something like this would happen again! It was like what happened with Jess, Dean… I tried my hardest to put it to the back of my mind, to forget it… but it just wouldn't go away…"

Dean shook his head in exasperation, running his hands through his hair, echoing his younger brother's behaviour and managing to irritate the now fading bruises on his knuckles, sending yet another jolt to the pit of his stomach. He patted Sam reassuringly on the shoulder, trying to ignore the horrible look of despair in his brother's eyes as he forced himself to be forgiving and sympathetic. His brother needed someone forgiving and sympathetic, and this could finally be a chance to at least partially redeem himself for his brutal attack. "Jesus Sam, why didn't you tell me? After everything you went through with Jess, keeping everything hidden away, even leaving yourself open for Mary to get at you… haven't you learnt anything by now? You have to let me know about these kind of things!"

"What, like you do you mean?" Sam threw back, outraged at how completely oblivious and irrational Dean could be.

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Well, you're hardly one to talk about opening up, Dean! You don't talk to anyone, and when you do, it's only because they force you to! Take the Shtriga for example. You only told me the truth about that because I wouldn't let it drop! Could you honestly tell me that you would have told me _anything_, had I not pushed you? I mean when was the last time you opened your heart to someone and let them in? We're both as bad as each other.. .except the only difference between us is that I actually _show_ my emotions, instead of bottling them up!" He was glaring at his brother, taking long deep breaths as he twisted his body round, tensing himself for a fight. He saw the anger light up in Dean's eyes as he sprang up off the bed, clenching his fists and turning on him, imagining himself looking much like a deer caught in car headlights. But instead of a fight, another brawl that would add even more cracks to their already fragile relationship, the fire burning in Dean's eyes seemed to burn out and all that remained was an empty sadness, that served only to make Sam feel even worse than he already did.

"Please Sam, don't you think it's hard enough for me as it is?" Dean collapsed back down on the bed, examining the yellow bruises and cuts on his knuckles as he silently pleaded for his brother to listen. "After everything that's happened over this past week, have you not thought about laying off the criticisms for a while? Jesus, you're starting to sound like Dad!"

"Dean, I -"

"Just forget it Sam," He stood up again and padded back over to his bed, waving his hand in Sam's general direction, "I'm going back to bed… try not to have any nightmares this time."

They both settled back down in their respective beds, Sam flipping on his side to avoid any uncomfortable looks between him and Dean, who in turn was finally facing inwards, his eyes focusing on the motif on the back of Maddie's t-shirt, taking comfort in her familiar shape and sleeping habits. Neither of them could sleep, Sam tossing and turning in his bed, groaning whenever he rolled onto his bandaged side and chest, whilst Dean was still lying in the same position, one bare leg wrapped around the outside of the duvet as he hugged it closely to his chest. Each of them completely absorbed in their own thoughts, their minds working overtime as the dark night sky disappeared around them, the bright hues of the morning sunrise appearing on the horizon when the sound of snoring finally filled the room.

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Dean opened his eyes groggily, blinking a couple of times and instinctively reaching for the knife under his pillow as he felt something move onto the bed, the mattress creaking under the pressure.

"Still sleeping with that thing?"

He squinted, withdrawing his hand from underneath the pillow and rolling over onto his side, kicking the duvet onto the floor. "Sam? What time is it?"

"About half seven."

"Urgh… kill me now." He sat up and leant his head against the metal frame of the bed, the coolness of the bar unsettling him a little, reminding him of a day not long ago in a small and empty parking lot. Flinching at his own idiocy, he leant forward and glanced over at the empty space next to him. "Where's Maddie?"

Sam nodded his head in the direction of the bathroom, and now Dean could just about make out someone retching and coughing, followed by the sound of running water. "What's up with her?"

"She's pregnant." Sam replied, shrugging and watching in interest as Dean hesitated before nodding, his expression remaining decidedly neutral. "Look Dean, about last night…"

"Forget about it, Sam. Let's just find this bastard Kinver and get this over with."

He looked as though he was about to protest, opening his mouth but snapping it shut almost instantaneously. How much further did he want to push his luck? _Not that far, at least not yet… Let Dean have his illusions, for what they're worth…_"Yeah… about that… We might have a problem." Sam grabbed his notes from the table and sat down, opening up the laptop.

"What kind of a problem?"

"Well, I found out what this guy did Dean, and he's a monster. He murdered over twenty girls, and that was before he died… God only knows how many afterwards…" Sam could only imagine the body count Jeffrey Kinver was carrying around with him, morbidly wishing that Kinver was more like Charles Harrington… _At least numbers between the shoulder blades would carry some value… _Before this thought even escaped his lips, he swallowed it and immediately regretted even thinking it. Picturing Maddie, Dean or anyone else he loved with those horrific numbers on their backs was enough to make him want to throw up, the finality of those numbers never even crossing his mind until the pictured them on a familiar face. "There have been numerous reports across the country of unsolved murders, all with Kinver's M.O, that date back to the late nineteenth century. Dean, he's probably murdered over a hundred women so far.. and who knows how many more that the authorities haven't flagged? We need to stop him."

"We will, I told you that Sam," He rolled out of bed, pulling on a t-shirt and stumbling over to the table, taking a seat opposite his brother's, "What did he do to them, the women?"

"He butchered them with a standard kitchen knife, stabbing them so many times that the coroners couldn't differentiate between the separate wounds. And then if that wasn't enough, he raped them, ridding them of any kind of dignity they had left before he slit their throats, leaving them to choke in their own blood." There were tears in Sam's eyes, and Dean knew they were thinking the same thing, each glad that Maddie had been spared from such a vicious slaughter.

"Does this mean that she.. she was…?" Dean trailed off, nodding nervously at the closed bathroom door."

"What?" Sam asked, glancing from the door to Dean before it finally dawned on him, "Oh no, _no_…she wasn't... Kinver gave up on raping women when the law finally caught up with him…"

"So what does gets this guy's blood boiling now then, huh?" Dean enquired, neither of them mistaking the obvious sound of relief in his voice.

"That's exactly it," Sam nodded enthusiastically, glancing down at his hands again and hastily shoving them in their pockets, "Blood." He added, noting Dean's vacant look.

"As in bite my neck and drain me, blood?"

"No, not quite. He's a spirit, so he can't really drink it. He just laps it up, enjoying the feel of it as it runs down his throat…"

"Man, he's one sick puppy…" Dean replied, "So how did old Jeff finally get his comeuppance?"

"I guess he just slipped up, killed one girl too many and was hung for his crimes." Sam said, shrugging inconclusively, yet the sight of the deep gouge in Kinver's neck was still etched in the back of his mind.

"Great, so this is just a simple salt and burn job, right?"

"Ahh… no, not exactly. After Kinver was hung, he was.. urgh… cremated."

"Oh man, you serious? Well that sucks out loud… So how are we going to kill him?"

Sam shrugged again, starting to feel like 'I don't know' was becoming his theme song. "I'm not sure, but I found something else out." He looked over at Dean, who nodded for him to carry on. "There's an old house not too far from here, apparently where Kinver used to live before he went ga-ga."

"So you're thinking there's something there?"

"Possibly, I don't know… We just can't rush into this head first Dean, we need to find out more."

"And that's where my trusty geek boy comes in," He smacked Sam playfully on the shoulder, muttering a hasty "Sorry" as Sam winced in pain. "But there's one thing I need to get straight…"

Sam frowned, expecting a speech worth of their father, the usual "Be good and stay safe", heck even a "don't do anything stupid" wouldn't go amiss in this kind of situation.

"She doesn't come with us," He indicated towards the bathroom door, lowering his voice, "He's after her, so she needs to be safe… it's not just her we're looking after now, alright?"

Sam nodded his agreement, following Dean's gaze and knowing that Maddie was never going to take this decision lying down, but for once he found he held no sympathy for her, just concern. _This is going to end, once and for all…_


	13. Weak and Powerless

Alright guys, just thought i'd say sorry for the later update (again) and i'll warn you that this isn't a very long chapter. I was planning on it being, but then i realised if i didn't split it up, then it'd probably be twice as long as any other chapter i've done, and i didn't want to put you through that! So yeah, just a short one for you guys now. I figured this was a natural place to stop it, and i just hope you don't kill me for it.

So please read, review as usual - your reviews mean so much! And watch out for the next chapter soon, the penultimate chapter... oooh... lol

Thanks, as always!

-Sarah

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**Chapter 13**

"Is this the place?"

He picked the black and white cut-out up from his lap, squinting closely at it and then looking back out of the window. The once majestic home was now a shadow of it's former self, every window cracked or broken, the remnants of the house inside barely visible through centuries worth of dust and dirt. The dark paint on the shutters and doors was cracked and fading from years of constant environmental abuse, brown flakes littering the windowsills and ledges. The garden, full of weeds and overgrown grass, looked more like a jungle than the trim, beautiful lawn it had once been, now thriving with all kinds of insects and creatures, an entomologist's dream. Time had been tough on the Kinver house, no longer looking magnificent but derelict and abandoned, yet despite all of its imperfections, they could still admire it's true beauty, hidden beneath all the grime. "Yeah, this is definitely it."

"Alright, so let's get going."

"Dean, are you sure this is going to work?"

He shrugged, pulling the keys out of the ignition and shifting anxiously in his seat. "Sam, I honestly don't know." He shook his head indecisively, reaching over and grabbing another piece of paper from Sam's lap. "Kinver was cremated yet he's still pulling a Jack the Ripper on us, so I just figured that this house might tell us why…"

"Do you really believe that?" Sam was looking at him sceptically, and for once Dean thought that Sam was right to be cynical. As far as he knew, this house could prove to be as useful as ice in a sauna, but they still had to check it out. He wasn't going to chance leaving anything unexamined, to later find that the house had been the key all along. _No, we have to check this out… it could turn out to be nothing but a damp squib, but at least we'll know… I'll be damned if I let this guy get away this time…_He sighed inwardly, his mind landing on the promise he'd made a distraught mother over eighteen months ago. He'd chalked it down as a failure, something he could never fulfil, sending his deepest sympathies but knowing that they would never replace the feeling of losing a child. For months afterwards, they'd exhausted all of their known resources, even calling their father for help, who found nothing significant to add to what they already knew. A letdown, to put it mildly, and something that he knew had driven both him and Sam mad, frustrated at the lack of anything probative. And now he had a chance to put things right, to make true his promise and get a little vengeance on the side too, only hoping that this wasn't a dead end as Sam suspected. Images of Kinver's victims flashed in front of his eyes, including Maddie, and he found himself making yet another promise, one he intended to keep… _I'll get him for you… I swear I'll bring that bastard down if it kills me…_ "No Sam, I don't and you know it. But we're clutching at straws here, or haven't you noticed?" He replied tetchily, throwing Sam a dirty look yet immediately regretting it when his eyes landed on the fading bruises and cuts _he_ had caused, knowing that even when gone completely, they'd still torment his already angst-ridden mind.

Sam scowled, his mouth thinning yet not rising to his brother's challenge, keeping quite and instead focusing all of his attention on a particularly ugly plant next to his window.

"Look Sam, this is all we've got and we're lucky to have even this. So if it turns out to be nothing but a dead end, then hey, I'll be the first one to buy you a beer for being right. But we have to check it out, you know this." He looked searchingly into Sam's eyes, looking for any sign of emotion or tell as to what he was thinking.

"Yeah, I_ know_…" Sam nodded grudgingly, deciding against sharing his feelings with Dean, knowing they'd have no effect whatsoever. He could tell something was wrong with this, that niggling feeling in his stomach had been growing stronger by the hour and now they were at the house, all he wanted to do was turn tail and run. He knew they needed to turn around, to leave and never come back, but then they'd always have the threat of Kinver hanging over their heads like a black cloud, never knowing when or where he'd decide to strike again, or whether that attack would prove fatal. And that wasn't the type of world he'd want to live in, not again, and especially not for Maddie and the baby.

"So, let's go." Dean prompted, stepping out of the car and slamming out of the door, not noticing Sam hesitating, his hand hovering over the door handle as he stared apprehensively up at the house, the sky turning dark around them. Unable to shake off the almost unbearable feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach, Sam reluctantly opened the door, clutching his .9mm tightly in his hand as he followed his brother into the abandoned house.

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"Dammit!" Maddie slammed her foot into the door, wincing in pain as her toes crunched against the wood and stumbling backwards, the door still not giving an inch. Cursing under her breath, she hobbled over to the bed and collapsed, nursing her sore foot. "Son-of-a…" She recalled the conversation she'd had with Dean and Sam, never believing they'd even consider leaving her on her own after everything that had happened, but now after spending hours staring at the same dreary spot of wallpaper in the motel room, she was beginning to think she'd underestimated the brothers after all. Every window had been boarded up with thick ugly brown plywood, the only light now coming from a dingy, old fashioned lamp on the table and a small hole she'd managed to pry into the wood before breaking a nail and screaming bloody murder at the empty room. They'd stressed that the boards were for her protection, but she had a feeling that they were really there to keep her in, to keep her caged like an animal until they returned. And they were certainly doing their job, she'd so far managed nothing other than a hole the size of a drawing pin, which wasn't doing much for her spirits, although the bottle of rum on the bedside table was beginning to chant her name out louder as every hour passed by. Even the door refused to play, she'd exhausted all of her paper clips and hair pins within an hour and was now deep in her illusion that they'd resorted to putting super glue in the keyhole to stop her escaping.

Sighing, she reached for the .45 on the bedside table and ejected the magazine, staring glumly at the two bullets they had kindly left her. "Enough to protect you, yet not enough to get you out of the room," She muttered, echoing Dean's words from earlier in the morning. _Thanks… so kind of you, I'll be sure to repay the favour sometime…maybe even buy you guys a couple of beers for your troubles… _She scowled, pointing the empty gun at the door before slamming it and the magazine back down onto the table, knocking the bottle of rum off at the same time, cringing as shards of glass and drops of rum flew across the floor. "Urgh…" She wretched as the smell of rum wafted up towards her nostrils, the scent becoming overwhelming as she raced towards the bathroom.

She skidded on the floor and knelt down next to the toilet, feeling the hot bile rise up in her throat and feeling herself give in as she wretched and clung onto the seat, coughing and spluttering. "Trust you to make me hate the smell of alcohol," She mumbled weakly, patting her stomach and holding tightly onto the seat as she shakily pulled herself up, feeling drained and helpless. Convinced that she wasn't going to throw up again, she turned on the tap and splashed cold water onto her face, gazing unbelievingly at the pallid and ashen face staring back at her in the mirror.

Grabbing a towel from the side, she wiped the water from her face and glanced back up into the mirror, noticing a slight movement in the corner of her eye. Twisting around, she instinctively reached for the gun usually tucked into the back of her jeans, grasping at thin air and raising her fists at her invisible assailant, noting how ridiculous she must look, a pale and pregnant twenty five year old who looked more like a terminally ill cancer patient than a intrepid, experienced hunter. She looked fleetingly around the room, noticing nothing out of the ordinary and relaxing her guard a little, lowering her fists but still standing defensively next to the basin.

Breathing deeply, she padded cautiously out into the room, closing the bathroom door silently behind her. After quickly surveying and making a mental checklist of everything in the room, she sighed and walked back over to the bed, now feeling very grateful for the thick line of salt preceding every window and door. _Pull it together now Maddie, there's nothing that could get through the barriers... this is a veritable Alcatraz in comparison to the last motel room we were in… just chill, there's nothing here… it's just your imagination…_Subduing the urge to burst out singing "Come with me, and you'll be in a world of pure imagination", she tiptoed over to the bed, jumping over the shards of glass and looked down at the empty bedside table. "What the-?" Her brows furrowed as she glanced from side to side, trying to picture where she'd put the .45, but every time coming back to the same place; the table. She spun round to face the room, or rather tried to, finding that something was now holding her in place, a vice like grip tightening around her neck.

It was only now that Maddie noticed the cool breeze blowing playfully around her bare feet, and struggled harder against the hidden attacker, only succeeding in pulling the choke hold on her neck tighter, feeling the weight bearing down on her larynx. She whimpered as a cool hand moved up her thigh, tugging playfully at the hem of her shorts before moving up underneath her t-shirt, running a finger teasingly up and down her spine. She gasped, stumbling forwards onto a stray piece of glass, grimacing as the sharp point pierced the bottom of her foot, a small trickle of blood oozing out onto the carpet. She felt herself being yanked forcefully back onto her feet, a hand pressed firmly in the small of her back as invisible lips touched themselves against her ear, a familiar voice whispering softly. "Sweetheart, for you I almost wish I was still alive."

There was that teasingly playful tug on her shorts again, and then a sharp stabbing pain somewhere in her chest caught her off guard, the chokehold on her neck loosening as she looked down, a small patch of red spreading slowly across the front of her t-shirt. She reached down, touching her fingers to her chest and bringing them up to her face, blinking rapidly as her red stained fingers slid in and out of focus. She felt the world slipping away from her, her legs collapsing and everything becoming hazy as she crumpled onto the carpet, the sickening smell of rum filling her nostrils as what was left of her reality faded to black.


	14. Never Saw it Coming

Okay, here is the next chapter as promised everyone :) As you might notice, this chapter is pretty long... so now you might understand why i split it up into two parts? I suppose i could have split this one up too, but you might kill me...

Anywho i'm a little worried about this one, need your input more than ever - getting even closer to the end now... eek :S I'm just worried i've not got this one quite right, so please.. let me know :)

Thanks, as always!

-Sarah

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**Chapter 14**

"Dean, this isn't going to budge."

"It will, I swear. Just give me one last try?"

Sighing, Sam stepped out of the way and watched in glee as Dean backed away from him, sniggering as he watched his brother run full force into the heavy wooden panelling of the Kinver front door, hearing a sickening crack yet the door still didn't shift. "I hate to say I told you so…"

"So don't." Dean snapped, slumping to the floor and nursing his sore shoulder. "Dude, I think I just dislocated my shoulder."

"Well it serves you right, you can never just let it be, can you?"

Scowling, Dean ignored this last remark and pulled himself up, eyeing the front doors suspiciously as he padded over to the window, wiping away some of the decades worth of dust and peering inside. "The window it is then." He pulled out his gun and smashed the window with the grip, grinning as the glass cracked and shattered, falling to the floor inside the house.

"You could have just _opened_ the window."

Dean shrugged, throwing Sam an incredulous look for even daring suggest such an abomination. "Sam, this bitch of a house did in my shoulder, the least she deserves is a broken window."

Biting his lip, Sam swallowed the jibe he'd been about to shout out, instead staying content in the knowledge that Dean was yet again in the wrong. Grinning to himself, he followed Dean in through the window, still holding tightly onto his .9mm as he treaded softly around the broken glass.

As it turned out, the house interior was hardly flashier than the outside. The wallpaper was faded and curling at the edges, the old fashioned pattern no longer colourful but dingy and caked with filth. What had once been a magnificent fireplace, that would have surely been the centrepiece of the sitting room, was now a nasty rust colour and covered in cobwebs. The aging wooden floorboards had been slowly rotting away over the years, large cracks and holes appearing as time took it's heavy toll. Any furniture remaining was either coated with so much dust and grime that the colour under was barely visible, or was covered with dirty and moth eaten cloth sheets. Yet as with the exterior, the house's beauty was still evident underneath all of the grime and rot.

The house's dreary interior did nothing to settle Sam's uneasy stomach. Now looking fretfully around the sitting room, he couldn't ignore the eerie atmosphere that the room emitting, and he could almost feel something else stalking their every move, yet couldn't voice this, knowing that Dean would only shrug his fears off, as he did with everything else. Sighing, he pulled out Dean's battered old EMF meter, jumping as it sprang to life. "Looks like you might be right after all." He remarked, glancing over at Dean, expecting to see that familiar smug smile but instead shocked to see his brother crouching down on the floor, seemingly fixated on something only he could see. "Dean?"

"There's blood here."

"What?"

"There's blood, on the floor." He wiped his finger along the board, bringing it up to his face and rubbing his thumb and forefinger together. "It's fresh too."

Frowning, Sam strolled across the room and peered over Dean's shoulder, finally noticing the winding trail of blood drops lead through the door and down towards the cellar. He shuddered, never before realising how ominous such an innocent looking trail of blood could be. "Jesus.." He whispered, now grasping his gun in both hands as Dean stood up and did the same.

Pressing his finger to his lips, Dean crept towards the cellar door, zigzagging silently over the blood drops. He'd never admit this to Sam, but he was as worried about the situation as his brother was. The blood, the ease of finding the information after years of searching, none of it seemed right. He knew it was possible that they could be walking straight into a trap, but at the same time he found himself wishing and praying that it wasn't, that by keeping Maddie locked up in the motel room, they'd bypassed any kind of harm or trap that would come their way. He felt himself silently praying that he was right, not noticing that he was holding his .9mm so tightly that his knuckles were white. "Why is it always cellars?" He muttered under his breath, pulling open the cellar door and groaning, watching in dismay as the stairs disappeared into darkness.

"Hey Dean?"

"Yeah?"

"Didn't Kinver have a wife?"

Dean shrugged, scowling at Sam for his pointless interruption. "Yeah I think so, does it matter?"

"Hmm, I guess not." Sam dismissed, shaking his head yet not being able to completely shake the thought from his mind. _I'm missing something, I know I am… dammit what is it?_

"Well Sammy, if you've finished with the completely B.S questions, I'd actually like to get somewhere today."

Sam nodded and they started to make their way down the stairs, risking a little torchlight to aid them a little, trying their hardest not to make even the slightest of sounds on the weathered, old staircase. The beams lay low on the ceiling, daring them to straighten up and stand tall, brushing past the cobwebs and layers of dust. Halfway down the stairs, the banister broke off into nothingness, leaving them to carry the rest of the way down with nothing to support them, wobbling on the uneasy steps. After what seemed like an age in the darkness, aided only by a pinprick of torchlight, they finally reached the cold concrete bottom of the cellar. They both breathed a sigh of relief, Dean glancing back up at the rickety staircase, amazed that both of them had managed to get down in one piece.

Sam nudged him, drawing his attention from the stairs and back onto the blood drops on the concrete floor. Cautiously, he followed the trail with his torch, growing more and more apprehensive as the blood drops doubled in size, his light finally coming to a halt on a small puddle of blood, pooled near the far corner of the seemingly empty cellar.

"Dean, this isn't-" He made to turn round and found himself caught in a strong choke hold, struggling to breath as he kicked and fought against an invisible attacker. He felt a cool breeze blowing around his ear and then an intense pain in his chest as he was flung across the room, hitting the concrete outer wall of the cellar with a sickening thud before collapsing back onto the ground. He gasped, using all of his power to lift his head off the ground, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the grey, lifeless floor as he gazed over towards the staircase. His vision began to blur as the concrete floor underneath slowly turned a shade of red and he blinked rapidly, taking in short, gasping breaths. He stretched his arm out, reaching helplessly to his brother, who was lying motionless at the bottom of the stairs, mumbling something inaudible as a pair of black boots moved into his hazy field of vision. Something sharp and heavy connected with the back of his head, followed by a momentary flash of pain as the floor came racing towards him, hearing the horrific crack as his head met the concrete, sighing in relief as the liberating unconsciousness finally washed over him.

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"Ugh." The room swam in and out of focus, aided by the violent throbbing pains in his shoulder, head and chest. Shifting side to side, he bumped his sore shoulder on the wooden post behind him, biting down hard on his lip to resist crying out in agony, feeling it give in as a small trickle of blood ran down his chin. He leant back against the post and closed his eyes, counting backwards from ten before he dared open them again. His vision was slowly getting sharper, yet everything still had a slightly dreamlike quality to it, blurred at the edges and hazy on the details. His eyes moved slowly around the room, landing on a person shaped blur tied up on the other side of the cellar. "Sam? Sammy!" He snapped forwards, ignoring the excruciating pain in his shoulder as he fought against his restraints. He heard the faint, tell-tale sound of metal bouncing off wood, glancing down and noticing the familiar chain of linked metal, fighting against it yet only causing it to bear down harder into his chest. _This is going to leave one hell of a bruise… _He slumped back against the post, taking in deep gasping breaths as the chain loosened it's hold.

"Dean?"

"Sammy?"

"I told you, it's Sam." His voice was barely higher than a whisper, each sentence followed by a harsh hacking cough that made Dean's hair stand on end

Dean brought himself back into an upright position, mustering all of his power to focus on his brother. Like him, Sam was chained to one of the wooden supports used to stop the concrete ceiling from simply caving in on them. The metal chain was hooked almost too loosely around Sam's upper torso, yet Sam barely had the strength to move it. He was slumped against the wooden post, the only thing still keeping him upright. His dark hair was matted with blood, his fading scars and bruises now buried underneath a mess of red and brown. The floor around him was now a nasty shade of maroon, bloody drag marks leading from him to the other side of the room, and it was only now that Dean noticed the small round hole and dark patch in the middle of Sam's t-shirt, oozing blood at a steady pace. "Jesus Sam, you look how I feel."

He laughed, his hysterics soon drowned out by another coughing fit, each cough sending a ripple up and down his body as he struggled to catch his breath, spitting a fine spray of blood onto the floor.

Dean closed his eyes, pinching his arm in the hope that he'd wake up back in their motel room, instead grimacing as he inflicted more unnecessary pain on himself. Drawing in another deep breath, he opened his mouth to say something but was silenced by a bloodcurdling scream coming from Sam's general direction. "Sammy? Sam!" His eyes flew open and landed on his brother, a deep gash now spreading across his chest, blood staining what was left of his t-shirt. Sam's face was contorted, the pain so obvious and deep as he twisted and turned away from the empty room. "What the-?" He felt so open and exposed as a flash of hot pain seared along his chest, watching in horror as his skin opened up and the blood flowed out of the vicious wound.

He could hear footsteps approaching from across the room, someone laughing menacingly as he twisted and pulled in vain against his restraints, the chains tightening across his injured chest. He could feel unconsciousness bearing down on him, begging him to give in and submit to the darkness. He wrenched his head backwards, slamming it against the post, splitting the already oozing cut open further. Stars swam in front of his eyes as he blinked back blood, relieved as the wave of unconsciousness retreated for the moment.

The snide laugh cut through the silence again, and Dean felt a cool hand tilting his chin upwards, staring straight into a pair of cold and calculating grey eyes. His gaze wandered downwards, taking in the old fashioned clothes and shoes but landing on the deep gouge in the neck, he could almost see the rope eating away at the flesh, constricting the veins and obstructing the airway.

"See something you like?" Kinver asked, pulling the knife from his pocket and slashing it across Dean's face, taking great satisfaction in the fresh line of blood running down his cheek.

"Not really, just one fugly sonofabitch."

Kinver laughed again, sending a shiver down Dean's spine. He looked over at Sam, leaning back against the post, his eyes closed as he concentrated on making his chest move up and down.

"What's so funny?" Dean spat out, tasting the blood on his lip as he glared at Kinver, making sure he kept one eye on his brother.

"You." Kinver brought the knife up to Dean's eye, bringing the tip less than an inch away from his retina, revelling in watching his victim recoil from the sharp point. "You thought you had it all worked out, didn't you? Figured you'd come here, all safe and sound and destroy me without so much as a complaint from me? You're very mistaken, Mr. Winchester. Do you really think I'd let you get away with this?"

"Yeah, we did." Sam spluttered, bowing his head and spitting out another mouthful of blood onto the already maroon coloured floor, glaring at Kinver as he spun round.

His eerie laugh echoed around the empty cellar as he wandered back over to Sam. "Well then you're a lot dumber than you look." Glancing between the brothers, he backed over to the darkened far corner of the cellar. "Did you honestly think leaving the girl at home was a good idea?" He flashed them an evil grin and bent down, grabbing something metal in his hand and dragging it into the middle of the floor.

Both brothers gasped, Dean fighting furiously against his chains, ignoring the intense pain as they burrowed into his flesh, whilst all Sam could do was glare at Kinver, pulling meekly at his restraints.

"Pretty little thing, ain't she?" Kinver remarked, kneeling down next to her, brushing a stray strand of blonde hair out of her face.

"Get your hands off of her, you-" Sam started, the rest of his sentence drowned out by another coughing fit, spewing more blood onto the floor.

"Don't you touch her!" Dean exclaimed, leaning as far forward as his chain would allow. His eyes were welling with tears as he gazed over at her broken and battered body. Her blue t-shirt was now stained dark, the blood trickling down through her shorts, onto her legs and pooling onto the floor. Her face was deathly pale, her previous bruises and cuts standing out against her ghoulish cheeks. Her blonde hair was tangled and matted against her head, dirty yet thankfully blood free. She was slumped back against the wall, barely conscious as her chest rose and fell irregularly, taking short gasping breaths.

"And what are you going to do about it?" Kinver retorted, running a hand along her thigh, reaching teasingly underneath the hem of her shorts as she groaned, blood escaping from her mouth and dribbling down her chin.

Dean glowered at him, placing his head back against the beam and closing his eyes, steadying his breathing. _Maddie, I'm sorry… I'm so sorry… you shouldn't be here, you should be safe back in the motel room… both of you should be… _He blinked back the tears brimming in his eyes, unable to look at the battered, exhausted bodies of his girl and brother. Grimacing as the stinging pain in his chest opted for a comeback, he concentrated instead on the padlock holding his chain together and the bent hairpin in his hand. Gritting his teeth, he kept his eyes on Kinver as he worked away at the padlock, unsure as to why he'd had the hairpin but simply grateful for small miracles, especially after the incident in Minnesota with the car aerial. "So Jeffrey, tell me… how did you become the miserable old bastard you are today?"

Kinver scowled, running the tip of his knife along Maddie's forehead as she whimpered weakly. "Well I suppose a little kiss and tell can't hurt." He sat down next to Maddie, keeping the knife poised on her heart, her too weak to struggle. "But any funny business, and I won't be so nice this time, okay?" He said menacingly, smiling as Dean nodded mutely. "So you want to know how I got like this? Women, my friend, curse on the earth they are. Why do you think I only attack girls? My bitch of a wife cheated on me and expected me not to get a little knife happy? Please," He scoffed, moving the knife outwards as he eyed the blood on it's tip, "She deserved everything she got, and that's more than the authorities would ever know…"

"What did you do with her?"

"Stabbed her, mutilated her, had my last few minutes of fun as the life and blood drained out of her body… One hell of a thrill, I can tell you." He grinned, fingering the gouge in his neck instinctively. "Buried her body out back, and they never found her…. No-one missed her, meddlesome old cow that she was. Hell, most folk probably thought I did them a favour, not that they'd ever admit anything of the sort.."

"Alright, alright. Spare me the self-righteous monologue… What are you going to do with us?" Dean interrupted, deciding he'd heard more than enough of Kinver's B.S reasoning.

Kinver flashed Dean a wicked grin as he stood up, tasting the blood on the end of his knife, Dean watching in horror as the blood ran through Kinver's body and spattered back down onto the floor. "Well I figured I'd go for your little brother first, tearing his skin apart piece by piece and then finally silencing him, watching him choke on his own blood." He glanced over at Sam, who was glaring dully at him as a thin line of blood ran from his nose. "And then, I'll move onto your girlfriend here." He looked longingly at her and the puddle of blood pooling around her legs. "Won't take much to do her in now, but I'll try my best to make it as unpleasant and unsightly as possible."

"Please, what makes you think I'll let you get away with that?" Dean replied, faking a coughing fit to hide the tell-tale click of the padlock opening, grabbing the chain between his hands to stop it from falling tellingly to the floor.

"I don't think, I _know_ Mr Winchester. How are you going to stop me when you're tied up down there?"

Dean laughed, throwing his head back and letting it echo around the room, drawing Kinver closer. "Oh yeah? Well you've forgotten one thing…"

"Oh, and what's that?" Kinver replied, bending down about a metre away from Dean.

"You never checked my pockets." He grabbed the chain with one hand and swung the other end round at Kinver, driving him away with what little iron there was left on the metal links. He whipped it round again, swiping the chain through Kinver's face as he disappeared from the room, screeching. Checking around to make sure he'd really gone, he sped over to his brother. "Sam, you okay?"

He lifted his head sluggishly upwards, coughing weakly. "Oh yeah, just peachy thanks… No, no… don't." He added as Dean made to undo his restraint. "Go find the wife's body.. burn it…"

"Why?"

"He killed her, he buried her… Something from him could have easily dropped off… wouldn't have been cremated…" Sam finished, anything else he was intending to say obscured by more hacking coughs and mouthfuls of blood.

Dean's brows furrowed at the internal struggle going on within. He gave Sam a once over and then looked over at Maddie, watching as her carry on taking those short gasping breaths. "What if he comes back while I'm gone?"

"Then hurry…"

Scowling, he jumped up and raced over to the stairs, taking one final look back at the broken bodies of the only two people left that he loved before dashing up the stairs as though the devil himself was on his tail.

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Kinver emerged out of the shadows, a satisfied grin on his face as he pulled out his knife and made his way over to the younger brother. "You know, I've dreamt of this day for a long time." Cackling to himself, he brought the knife down hard, expecting much more of a fight than the feeble kicking and moaning the brother offered. "Come on, you can do better than that!" He brought the knife down again and again, slashing at his flesh and taking great satisfaction in watching the skin break apart, the blood flowing out as easily as water. Bending down, he wiped up some of the blood from Sam's forehead, savouring the sickly sweet taste and smell. "Mmm… sweet,"

"Leave him alone…" A faint voice called out from across the room.

"You shut up, you little bitch! If I'm going down, then I'm going to go down in style… so you're next!"

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Dean raced over to the car, opening the trunk and grabbing everything he needed without a second thought, his mind on overdrive. All he could think about was his brother and girl, trapped down in that cellar with the spirit of a psycho killer, who'd kill them without even a blotch appearing on whatever conscience he had left. _I'm coming Maddie, Sammy… I'm coming… I said I'd end this, and I will…_

Slamming the trunk shut, he ran around the side of the house and paused as he reached the back yard. _Oh crap, how the hell am I going to find the grave out here? Crap… crap… think Dean, think… What would Grissom say? Sunk… sunken… aha! Sunken ground means something is buried there, right? Right? Ahh screw it… _Throwing caution to the wind, he sped off around the yard, figuring one idea was better than no idea, and that his hours of watching late night television was sure to pay off at some point.

"Oomph," His foot caught on an uprooted tree and he found himself flying to the ground, the dirt rising in front of his eyes as his sore shoulder connected to the ground. Cursing himself, he glared at the offending tree, finally noticing that the ground he was sprawled on was nearly a foot lower than that around. "Well I guess that qualifies." He muttered, not believing his own luck and silently thanking God as he grabbed his shovel and got to work.

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He pressed the knife into his neck, drawing a tiny pinprick of blood and watching transfixed as it trickled down towards his collarbone, joining the river of blood already making it's way downwards. "Scream for me." Kinver whispered into his ear, dragging the knife down the side of his cheek as Sam whimpered and coughed, spraying more blood onto the now saturated floor. He could hear him taking short painful breaths, watching his chest rise and fall unevenly as he took in all of the fading bruises and cuts on the young man's face. "Boy, you're having one hell of a bad week."

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The relieving sound of metal hitting wood filled his ears, and Dean found himself thanking Jeffrey Kinver for being so considerate as to bury his wife in a proper box. Scraping away the dust and dirt, he broke through the flimsy homemade coffin with the edge of his shovel, coughing as centuries worth of dust and decomposition escaped from it's prison. His shoulder, chest and head were all screaming in agony at him, begging him to stop for a moment. But he couldn't, he could still picture Sam and Maddie lying broken on the cellar floor, and refuse to stop until they were safe and well in the hospital.

Moving on, he quickly doused her body in salt and lighter fluid, taking immense satisfaction in lighting the match and dropping it into the coffin, watching the flames engulf all that was left of her skeleton. He could almost hear her crying in her grave, begging for release, for someone to find her and rid her of the torture Kinver had inflicted on her over the years. _You're free now…_He thought, smiling weakly as the flames ate up the last remnants of her bones, and she was finally able to rest.

_No rest for the wicked… _He dismissed the smouldering remains of Kinver's wife and raced off back towards the house, taking only his trusty shotgun for support. His shoulder was now screeching at him to stop, the pain was so unbearable that only the thought of saving the lives of the people he loved drove him on. _I'm coming… I'm coming… _He repeated this over and over in his mind as he reached the house, bursting through the back door and sprinting towards the cellar door, flinging it open and dashing down the stairs two at a time, hearing the wooden stairs creak and bend underneath his weight. "Sam? Maddie?"

The sight that greeted him as he bounded off the bottom step was that of nightmares, reminding him eerily of the motel room from two weeks ago. There was no sign of Kinver, but his mark had definitely been made. The cellar walls were covered in blood, some smeared, some cast off from his knife. He wouldn't have been entirely convinced that Kinver had disappeared, had it not been for the dripping wet knife abandoned in the middle of the floor. "Maddie? Sam?" He glanced around the room, his jaw dropping as his eyes finally focused on the sight in front of him, hoping to god that the unconsciousness from a while ago was simply playing tricks on him, making him imagine that his brother and girl were both lying battered and motionless on the floor, their blood pooling like lakes beneath them.


	15. My Last Breath

Right, i've not got much to say about this chapter... except I'M SORRY! You'll understand after you read it, but yeah.. i'm apologising in advance!

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**Chapter 15**

The sirens echoed in Dean's ears as he shifted sleepily on the hospital's uncomfortable plastic chairs, his eyelids drooping as he tried his hardest to stay awake. _Two ambulance trips in as many weeks…_He shook his head, wrenching his eyes open and pressing his hands together, tapping his feet nervously. His nerves were still frayed from his previous dash to the emergency room, and now seeing his brother and Maddie being wheeled away on gurneys, following until he could go no further, watching as the bloody bandages trailed along the linoleum floor… he just couldn't take it. _I'd promised Dad that I'd look after them… bang up job I'm doing so far…_He buried his head in his hands, so tempted to close his eyes yet afraid of what he might see there. The ambulance ride had been torture, watching the medics as they removed dressing after bloody dressing, throwing them haphazardly onto the floor as though it was the most normal thing in the world. He couldn't even begin to understand what they had gone through, but his imagination was certainly working overtime on the idea.

Instead of looking opposite at the bland cream walls and empty, uninviting red plastic chairs of the hospital waiting room, all he could see was the ghost of Jeffrey Kinver attacking the people he loved. He could envisage the knife tearing into their flesh, ripping the skin and splashing blood around the room, drinking it hungrily as though it was nothing but water. The contorted and agonized expressions on Sam and Maddie's faces would forever be etched on his mind, trying to convince himself that if only he had stayed, then maybe he wouldn't be perched precariously on a plastic seat, worrying himself senseless while his brother and girl were being cut apart by butchering surgeons. Yet the rational part of his mind kept reminding him that if he hadn't gone off, if he had stayed in the cellar and protected them, then they'd probably all be lying battered and dying on that cold concrete floor, with no hope of a rescue. _It isn't my fault… I did everything possible…_He hoped that if he kept repeating the same mantra over and over, he'd eventually start believing it.

Sighing, he pressed his head back against the wall, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn't have to stare any longer into Jeffrey Kinver's cold, grey eyes. He could hear the steady beep of the life support in the room opposite, his fingers itching to bury themselves in his ears, to drown out the noise that was sure to haunt his dreams for weeks to come. The beeping was nothing more than a sound of despair to him, reminding him of the heart-rendering thirty seconds in the ambulance when Sam crashed, the thought of a perfectly straight line imprinted in his head. Thankfully Sam had been stabilised soon after, and now Dean made a mental note to give his brother a good ass kicking when he was finally out of surgery.

The wait was killing him, and not least because sitting on stiff, plastic chairs for hours did nothing for his posture. What little nails he had, had already been bitten down to the quick, and he was now starting on his fingers, biting nervously at the skin around his nails. Hearing footsteps approaching, he snapped his head forwards and stared up into a pair of kindly brown eyes.

"Mr Winchester?"

He nodded, swallowing hard as his eyes flickered over the small smile playing on the Doctor's lips, his heart doing a pre-emptive jump for joy.

"Can't seem to get rid of you, can we?"

Dean frowned, taking a few seconds to realise it was the same doctor he spoke to on his previous trip, too shell shocked to do anything but smile meekly and nod.

Sensing his distress, Doctor Gordon sat down next to him and put a reassuring hand on his shoulder, not unlike the time he did so in their conversation a few weeks ago. "Your girlfriend has just come out of surgery, and I'm pleased to say she's doing fine," He beamed, grabbing Dean's hand and shaking it heartily whilst Dean give him a small, shaken smile, "She'll be a bit groggy and will definitely be sore for a while, but she's sure to make a full recovery. She's lucky though. If her less superficial injuries from the past weeks hadn't started healing as quickly as they have done, then I doubt we'd be having such a cheerful conversation…"

All Dean could do was nod his head and smile weakly, ignoring the doctor's words of caution and instead concentrating on the positives; _She's alive… _The butterflies in his stomach were finally settling down when his heart stopped it's flips of elation and fell back down to anxiety, the smile dropping from his lips like lightning. "What about my brother? How is he?"

Gordon paused, his hand loosening it's hold on Dean's shoulder as his smile disappeared, replaced by a worrying frown. Seeing this, Dean felt an overpowering urge to blurt out "turn that frown upside down", managing to restrain himself by biting into his already broken lip, feeling the blood run down his chin once again. "Well… hey, are you okay?" Gordon was looking curiously at his now bleeding lip.

"Yeah, yeah I'm fine," He dismissed, wiping the blood away with the back of his hand, "What about my brother, Sam?"

Gordon sighed, shrugging noncommittally. "I honestly don't know. He was stable when he went into surgery and as far as I know, he still is." He shrugged again, watching as Dean's face dropped, immediately sorry for being so honest. "I'm sorry I can't be more helpful, but I'm sure he's fine." He squeezed Dean's shoulder and stood up, eyeing the young man in front of him curiously.

"Can I see her?" Dean whispered, trying his hardest to put the news about Sam to the back of his mind, repeating his new mantra under his breath… _He's fine, he'll be okay… _

"Oh, of course you can," Gordon smiled, pointing down the corridor, "She's in the same room as last time… do you-?"

"Yeah, I remember." Dean flashed Gordon the bravest smile he could muster, waiting for him to round the corner before burying his head back in his hands, choking back a sob. _God Sammy I'm so sorry… this is all my fault… _He kept thinking that if only he'd stayed, if only he'd stayed and protected them… But every time he tried to think of a 'how', his mind always went blank. Thinking about it was tearing him up inside, he could almost feel the cracks appearing in his heart and his conscience evaporating before his eyes. Trying not to think about it was like trying not to be himself, like having his shotgun and not knowing how to use it, running into battle without any rocksalt. Scowling at himself, he stood up and made his way unsteadily towards Maddie's room.

He pushed the door silently open, resisting his first overwhelming impulse to snap his eyes shut to save him from whatever horrors the room might offer. But instead of horrors, all he could see was a motionless lump bathed all around in dazzling white as he made his way towards the head of the bed. Her hair was spread fan-like across the pillow, her face almost as white as the bedspread with a fresh, deep cut running along the side of her cheek. Checking to make sure no-one was going to walk in on him, he pulled back the blanket to see the extent of her injuries, moving it cautiously past the various tubes sticking out of her arms as he eyed the life support machine next to the bed suspiciously. He ran his eyes along her unconscious body, seeing nothing out of the ordinary other than a bulkier and misshapen chest from the bandages underneath. Sighing, he collapsed down onto the chair beside the bed but left her uncovered, running his hand along her swollen and no longer flat stomach, a small flicker of hope flaring in the back of his mind as his felt his eyelids becoming heavy. Unable to fend off the sleep any longer, he put his free hand in hers and laid his head down on the bed, all the while thinking… _He'll be okay… he'll be fine…_

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The hinges on the door creaked and his eyes snapped open, instinctively reaching for the .9mm in his jacket pocket, his fingers centimetres away from the grip when he noticing the white coat swinging in the corner of his eye. Relaxing his hand, he pulled it out of his pocket and swung round to face the doctor.

"Mr Winchester?" She stood hovering nervously at the door, her nervousness apparent as he nodded affirmatively. "I'm Doctor Bailey, I'm one of your brother's surgeons. Could I have a word with you, please?" She nodded her head in the direction of the door, and he couldn't help but note her determinedly neutral expression.

"Surely we can stay here?" He asked, rising from his seat and looking down at Maddie. "She's unconscious, she's hardly going to listen in… Besides, she's almost family." He added softly, placing his hand back in hers again as Bailey nodded reluctantly. "How's my brother doing?"

She faltered, and the look she gave him was enough to tell him everything. His heart sank and he could almost feel it breaking into pieces, and she needn't have said another word. _Oh god, Sammy… no, no… she's wrong… you're fine, I know it…He just can't be…_

"I'm sorry, Mr Winchester." And to her credit, she really did look it. "Your brother's injuries are just too severe. We tried our hardest to repair all of the internal bleeding, but there was just too much damage, especially considering his previous injuries… I'm so sorry, but your brother is dying."

Tears were running freely down his face and she reached out to touch his arm, but he shrugged her roughly away, clinging onto Maddie's hand as though it was his only lifeline left, his other hand remaining resolutely on her stomach. _Dying? _Sammy? _It can't be true, it just can't… I'm the one who's supposed to be dying, not him… I'm not supposed to watch my younger brother die! I should have died almost two years ago, __Sam should have let me go instead of clinging onto the hope of Le Grange healing me… then none of us would be here… I'd be dead and Sammy and Maddie would be safe… and Dad might still be alive…This is all my fault! If only I could go back, to change things…but I can't…so now I have to watch my younger brother die? _A huge gasping sob escaped his lips, his whole body shaking as his vision blurred through the tears, shrugging off yet another attempt from the doctor to comfort him. "W-What do you mean, previous injuries?" He managed to blurt out, still staring doggedly down at the bed.

"The injuries he received about.. uh.." Bailey glanced down at the clipboard in her other hand, "About a week ago. He was rushed in suffering from severe internal bleeding, after he was viciously assaulted outside of the hospital?" She looked questionably at him as he nodded mutedly. "Well we managed to repair the damage then, but of course it hasn't healed fully… so when he received these latest injuries, he had a greater susceptibility than he did before, he was much more vulnerable and his body just can't cope with the trauma."

"So you're saying that if it hadn't been for his previous injuries, he wouldn't be dying?"

"Most probably… yes."

"Oh god.. oh god… oh god." Dean mouthed silently, his heart now racing in his chest as he collapsed back into the chair, the sobs against sending waves of despair through his body. _It really is my fault… I've sentenced my brother to death over an irrational act of violence… Oh god, Sammy I'm so sorry! Oh god… I've murdered my own brother… I might as well have put a gun to his head, for what it's worth… _His mind now landed again on his .9mm, how welcoming the cool muzzle would feel pressed against his temple, putting him out of his misery. He didn't deserve to live after this, how could he go on with his life knowing he'd caused his brother's death? And if it wasn't for the unconscious woman in the bed before him, he'd take his gun out right now and end it all, leaving the hospital staff to clean up what had once been his life. He couldn't imagine what it'd feel like to finally squeeze that trigger, the momentary pain and then the end of everything as his blood and brain matter spattered against the walls, staining the cream a dirty red as his whole life was mopped up by strangers. Finally getting his sobs under control, he look back up at the doctor and managed to choke out, "H-H-How long?"

"Not long. The blood is compressing his internal organs, causing them not to function properly… so it's only a matter of time before they shut down completely."

"Oh… oh god… can I see him?"

"Not just yet, I'm afraid. He's just come out of surgery, but I'll let you know when you can see him," She shook her head solemnly, "Mr Winchester, I really am sorry."

He dismissed her heartfelt apology again, too absorbed in his own macabre thoughts to even notice her backing slowly out of the room, barely registering the door hinges creaking as it swung shut, _Oh god… I've killed him… I'm responsible… _running constantly through his head. He felt a slight pressure on his hand and glanced down into a pair of once sparkling blue eyes, feeling her hand grasp his weakly.

"Dean, what's wrong?"

And for once he was speechless as he finally gave in to the overwhelming sorrow threatening his wreck of a life, letting the sobs haul their way through his body as he lay his head back down on the bed, tears drenching the bedspread as she tried her hardest to comfort him.

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For the second time in less than an hour, that feeling of dread rose up in Dean's stomach again as he opened the door, this time mingled with despair that just wouldn't budge. Again this room was all white, but instead of giving off an air of hope and life, he could only think of it as the last sanctuary for the hopeless, the final place the dying would ever see. _Dying… _even thinking the word just didn't seem right. My baby brother… dying? _No… there must be something I can do… there must be some kind of crack faith healer out there willing to help… He didn't give up on me, so there's no way in hell I'm going to give up on him now…_

He braced himself for the shock of seeing his brother, expecting anything from blood pouring out of his ears to a room filled with nothing but the beeping of a life support machine, yet not anticipating his brother actually sitting up in his bed, pale but otherwise alive, staring blankly at the television in the corner. Ignoring his urge to put a bullet hole into the grating life support machine, Dean stepped into the room and hovered anxiously by the side of Sam's bed.

"You were right about daytime TV, it really is awful." Sam commented, his voice weak and barely above a whisper.

"Sam, I- "

"Don't," He raised his hand from the bed, grimacing as the pain shot up his wrist, "Just don't. I know what you're going to say, so just don't, alright?"

"Sam, I spoke to your doctor." He couldn't help but notice the dark circles under his brothers eyes and how he could barely differentiate between the colour of his face and that of the pillow underneath.

"Oh… yeah… guess you'll be hunting on your own from now eh?"

"Don't talk like that Sam, we'll figure something out. I'll make sure of it."

"And do what, Dean? Get some idiot faith healer to have a crack at me?" He asked, his voice hoarse as he broke into a coughing fit, Dean's heart stopping as he watched his brother gasp and splutter helplessly.

"Maybe… I don't really know Sam! What's happened to you is my fault, and I'm sure as hell going to fix it." Tears brimmed in his eyes and he tried his hardest to blink them back, to stay strong in front of his brother.

"Dean… please…" Sam spluttered, taking in huge gasping breaths, "There's nothing you can do, so just let it drop. I'm dying and that's it."

"I can't Sammy, and you know it. You're my brother and I love you. I'm not going to watch the only family I have left die without a fight."

"Dean," He reached out for his brothers hand, squeezing it softly with all the power he could muster, "You can't stop this."

"Just watch me." He squeezed Sam's hand reassuringly before turning and walking towards the door, almost screaming _Sammy, I'm sorry_ in his mind, wishing and hoping that his brother would pick up on it. Dean took one last glance at his younger brother, whose gaze had now switched back to the childish cartoons on television, unaware that it was the last time he'd ever see his brother alive.

Backing out of the door, he nearly tripped over someone parked in the hallway, whirling round and finding himself looking into tearful blue eyes. She looked as pale and ill as she had done before, cuts and bruises winding their way out of the bandages, her breathing slightly laboured as she looked curiously up at him. He knew she shouldn't be moving around, but he doubted anyone other than her would have had a say in the matter. He could almost picture her shouting and screaming at the doctors, forcing them to let her out at the risk of her own health, all for Sam, smiling as he remembered how selfless she could be. "Going against doctor's orders, I see."

"Well what can you expect from someone who's spent a lot of time with you?" She half smiled, the cut on her cheek allowing her nothing more. "Where are you off to?"

"To do some research… to help Sammy." His eyes misted over again as he bent down and kissed her softly on the cheek, striding purposely down the hall as she stared curiously after him.

Sighing, she wheeled herself into the room, catching her I.V tube on the door handle and muttering cursively under her breath. Sam was now slumped down in the bed, the television on mute as he gazed dully at her, his head resting on the pillow. "You look worse than I do."

He laughed, his smile fading as he held back another coughing fit. "Well, I can't say you're looking your best either."

She smiled, taking his hand in hers, being careful to wrap her fingers around the bruises and cuts, tears shining in her eyes. "Sam, I… oh god, I'm so sorry."

"Don't be, there's nothing you could have done." He squeezed her hand gently, the tiny movement sending daggers through his body. "There's nothing anyone could have done, but at least they tried… I couldn't ask for more…"

"Sam I-"

"Would you promise me something?" He looking searchingly at her, his eyelids drooping as he tried his hardest to keep them open.

She nodded enthusiastically, "Sure, anything."

"Look after Dean for me… he needs someone right now, I don't think he can cope on his own… so just make sure he's alright?"

"Course I will, you don't think I'm going to leave him after this, do you?"

"No, of course not… but it's not you I'm worried about leaving…"

She nodded, biting down on her lip and avoiding his gaze. "Look, Sam-"

"You will look after him, won't y-"

"Dammit Sam! Will you stop interrupting me and let me talk? You know I'll look after him, so stop asking!" She slammed her hand down on the bed, watching him grimace as the mattress ripple ran underneath his back. "Will you just sit and listen, please?"

He nodded weakly, not trusting his voice to remain steady and simply gazing at her.

"Sam.. I… I…" She tapped the fingers of her free hand nervously on the bed, her eyes flitting around the room restlessly. _How am I supposed to tell him? It'll break his heart… _The tears were running freely down her face now as she cleared her throat and looked him straight in the eye. "The baby's yours, Sam."

"What?" His head snapped up, momentarily forgetting his injuries as he stared at her, crying out as the pain stabbed into him like a thousand needles.

"The baby's yours, Sam… I had a test done, and got the results back a few days ago…"

"You can't be serious?"

"The margin of error is about 1 percent Sam, I'm deadly serious."

"I.. oh, wow…" He started coughing again, brushing them away, unable to take his eyes off her. "Oh god… I don't know what to say." He gaped at her, his mouth opening and closing, barely able to come to terms with what she had told him as the tears welled in his eyes. "I was going to be a dad? Oh god… now I suddenly _really_ want to live…" He began to sob silently, his whole body shaking helplessly.

"Oh Sam… Sammy…" Maddie jumped awkwardly from her chair, ignoring the twinges stabbing at her from beneath her stitches, using all of her effort to hold him in her aching arms. She wiped his tears away, not noticing or caring that her tears were also mixing with his as she kissed his forehead, trying her hardest to hug all of his fear and pain away.

She would have happily stayed like that for hours, even weeks… but they were cruelly torn apart by a knock on the door, the orderly ready and waiting to take her back to her room. "Looks like my ride's here."

"You make sure you look after yourself now, and that kid of ours too." He smiled faintly, trying to pull himself together as the tears continued to fall.

"I will, Dean too." She bent down and kissed him gently on the lips, brushing his hair out of his eyes. "I love you Sammy..." She whispered, sitting back down in the wheelchair, closing her eyes against the pain as the orderly wheeled her out of the room.

"Love you too, sweetheart." He pressed his head back against the pillow, letting the real sobs come out of him like a wave, tears staining his cheeks as he felt the tiredness wash over him again. _My baby… oh god… Dean… _How the hell would his brother react when he found out? _He'd kill me… oh… wait, too late… _He sniggered, his laugh turning into another hysterical sob as he tried his hardest to steady himself. Dean will be alright, he's gotten through worse… hasn't he? First Dad, and now me? _Oh Dean, if only it didn't have to end this way… _He coughed again, taking in short laboured breaths as he glanced over at his life support machine. _Lot of good that's doing… _He tried to take his mind off of Dean and Maddie, but he couldn't stop thinking about the child he'd never see grow up, the girl he'd never get to marry, the brother he'd never get to forgive. _Dean, Maddie… I know you can't hear me, but I love you… I always will… _His eyelids sagged again, the tiredness pushing on at him. "Alright, alright… I'll sleep," He murmured, giving in and letting his eyes close, feeling the sleep latch onto him like a leech. _Dean, I forgive you… and I love you more than you'd ever know… _

Sam Winchester's head fell sideways on the pillow, a frantic beeping somewhere next to his head as he slipped into unconsciousness, never to wake up.

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Again, i'll apologise for this chapter, as y'all might be hating me right now!

In all honesty, i was that worried about this that i was considering giving it a completely revamp. But i've had this in my head since i started this fic, so i figured... might as well stick with it now! Besides, the only other way out i could think of would be a big of a cop out..

But yeah, reviews are more welcome than ever! And oh yeah, this isn't the end _just _yet :) I've got a little something extra to end with :)

- Sarah


	16. Funeral of Hearts

Okay, this kept appearing and reappearing, so i deleted it and reuploaded it... hope it works now:)

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**Epilogue**

_7 months later…_

The sunlight beat down on the back of his neck, shining brightly as he made his way through the newly cut grass, weaving his way mechanically around the various stones and markers. The calming silence filled his ears, spoilt only by the sound of the birds and trees, leaves blowing in the wind as nature went about it's daily business, a sense of indifference towards the rest of the world. A lack of interest he found himself empathising with more often as of late, withdrawing into his own world, caring about one person and one person only, _Sam_. A car alarm went off in the distance, the grating noise breaking the idyllic mood, the sound jolting his mind from the present and back into a memory he'd tried his hardest to repress.

Yet another dash to the hospital, this time without the urgent flashing lights, racing like the wind down the hospital corridors, bursting into his room to see the flat line spike tentatively on the monitor. A small spike of hope in the midst of all the despair, one that he'd clung to long after the machine had been turned off for good. After that first flat line, Sam had never regained consciousness, the ventilator and life support machine constantly reminding Dean of this as he sat vigilantly by his brother's bedside, his hatred for the machine going beyond that of the grudge he held against that bothersome fabric softener teddy bear.

Two days later and Sam had still been clinging onto life, his condition critical yet stable as Dean sat anxiously next to him, never letting go of Sam's hand, not moving or eating, feeling his own energy deplete and drain as his brother's did the same in the next bed. After a fraught seventy two hours, Sam had finally lost his fight for life, the ventilator and life support crashing at the same time, and despite the valiant efforts of the medical staff, the ominous red line hadn't wanted to let up.

Now cutting along the gravel path, he could still picture the thin line of blood trickling down his brother's chin as his organs simultaneously cut out, the pressure of the internal bleeding finally taking it's toll on his already fragile body. Those few minutes afterwards had been the worst in his life, screaming murderously at the doctors to bring Sam back before collapsing down onto the floor, sobbing inconsolably in front of complete strangers. Much after that had been hazy at best, the sedation causing him to slip in and out of consciousness every few hours, his waking hours spent silently mourning his brother whilst his extensive periods of sleep spent screaming out Sam's name.

The funeral had passed without a hitch, him spending the majority of his time supporting a devastated Maddie, everything finally coming down on her as the past week had been spent arranging Sam's funeral, after he had refused point blank to do it, instead retreating into his own world where his brother was still alive and the girl he loved was still _his_ girl, and his alone. He couldn't believe that Sam was gone, and even now, seven months later, he still refused to believe it until he embarked on his weekly pilgrimage to his brother's grave, seeking solace in a headstone that provided him with nothing but grief.

The only ray of hope emerging from the whole mess had been given to him by the doctors, the possibility that Sam's injuries might not have been made worse by his vicious attack. Yet despite this, his conscience still wasn't clear. There was that word, _might_, and the chance that he had been the cause after all, but he wasn't going to let his brother's body be violated any longer, preferring a lifetime of uncertainty over the consequences of a post mortem. There was a big difference between thinking and _knowing _you were the cause of your brother's death, and he'd take the former over the latter any day, favouring beating himself up over not knowing than beating himself up over the truth. Course beating himself up would never take away his guilt over Sam's death, yet it did make him feel slightly better knowing that he was suffering too.

Not that he was the only one suffering from all of this. For the first few months, Maddie had been completely despondent, never speaking, spending all of her time sitting and sleeping, and he had been too wrapped up in his own morbid thoughts to notice. In those early days, he'd use that ominous piece of paper found in the trash as his excuse for not caring, for simply retreating back into his own world as if nothing was wrong. But now he knew that was no reason for his actions, that instead that piece of paper had pulled him back from the brink, making him realise he wasn't the only one in turmoil. _Sam… I should've known… _Yet now he knew, he didn't want to put a bullet in his head or run away like the scared little boy he was inside; he wanted to stay and protect the only family he had left, blood relatives or not. So he stayed, pushing all of his anguish and grief to the secret place in the back of his mind, instead taking care of the woman he found himself falling in love with all over again.

Dean paused as he cut across the grass, swivelling on his heels and finally facing the place he could be true to himself and let out all of his sorrow, under the ever watchful eyes of his brother. Maddie had adamantly refused the picture, but he had insisted, almost reducing her to tears to get his own way yet now knowing that he had been right, that looking at the picture was much better than glancing down at the dirt, knowing that Sam's body was being eaten away six feet under.

Fixing his gaze on Sam's picture, he could already feel the tears burning in his eyes as he hovered anxiously at the edge of the plot, glancing sideways as he always did to his parents graves, sending them a silent missive of remembrance. He thought this was just going to be a normal trip, sobbing at his brother's grave until he could cry no more, but something was different. He wanted to cry, he wanted to grieve, yet he also wanted to talk, something he prayed and hoped was a sign of finally accepting.

"Hey Sammy… Sorry I haven't been here for a couple of weeks, but I bet you were glad having no-one tearing up your plot for a change?" Dean laughed, closing his eyes and taking in deep breaths, letting the cool breeze tease and jostle him around. "I've been busy… with baby stuff, you know?" He slapped his hand to his forehead, cursing himself. "Course you don't know…you never got chance to…"

He looked up from the headstone and out over the grass, watching indifferently at a funeral procession now making it's way down the winding cemetery road, before turning back to his brother. "That's what I came to tell you Sammy, you have a son… a little baby boy, Sam, and god… he's so beautiful." He bit down on his lip, his voice shaking as he blinked back the tears, knowing he wouldn't be able to hold them back forever. "W-We named him Sam, after you of course…a bit chick flicky I know, but I blame the girl…" He smiled, shrugging helplessly and shaking his head in mock despair. "I can tell he's going to look just like you, he already has that damn mess of hair coming along… He has her eyes though, those cute baby blues… If he doesn't break any hearts with those eyes, I'll be bitterly disappointed. But hey, maybe I'll teach him some of my old Dean magic, what do you think?" He laughed teasingly, yet the smile never reached his still teary eyes. "But I'll look after him Sammy, I promise… I'll be good, I'll make sure he studies, looks after himself… And as soon as he's old enough, he'll know about you, I swear…"

Suddenly he could hold it in no longer and the floodgates opened, the tears rolling down his cheeks as he gazed down at his brother's smiling and happy face. "God Sammy, I'm so sorry… this is all my fault… if it hadn't been for me, you'd be alive, you'd be with your son… and I… I…" He faltered, his mind again settling on the calming feel of the .9mm against his temple, shuddering as even the memory of it made him feel mortified. "I… I wouldn't be here."

Dean sighed, brushing the tears from his cheeks and glanced away from his brother, waiting patiently until he'd managed to bring his emotions under control, breathing heavily. "Sam, I know I never told you this, and hell, I wasn't planning on doing so, but I guess I just need to get this out… Remember when I told you if the baby was yours, I'd leave and never come back? Well… leaving wasn't quite what I had in mind…" He reached into his inside pocket, pulling his .9mm out and holding it lovingly in his hands. "I was going to put this to my temple, an end to everything… I'd considered it before, this would've been no different… But how could I do it to Maddie, Sam? How could I leave her and your kid, in a world where they'd never be truly safe? I couldn't live with myself Sam, knowing that I was leaving them alone…" He was angry at himself for even considering such desperate actions, now looking to his brother for forgiveness, though knowing that a picture would never be able to give him any kind of pardon.

Scowling, he shoved his gun back in his pocket and collapsed on the grass next to his brother's headstone, his eyes wandering helplessly over the inscription, smiling at the word 'father', a word he'd insisted must be on there. His thoughts kept jumping from topic to topic, as disjointed as his monologue, yet knowing he had to get everything out before he clammed up again, refusing to talk. "You know, I'm thinking of becoming a fire-fighter…" He smiled, his eyes clouding over as his mind drifted back two years ago when he finally got to wear the uniform he'd dreamt about for years as a child. "Yeah, unbelievable isn't it? Me, giving up the demon hunting life to become a regular Joe…Months ago, having a normal life would've killed me. But now, the thing I look forward to most is getting home and having Maddie ask me "How was your day, dear?" The normal things you know…" Another small smile formed on his lips, himself unbelieving that he'd ever hear himself admit such a thing. "And besides, you get paid for fire-fighting."

Dean laughed, pulling a bag of peanut M&Ms out of his pocket and munching happily on them. "Maddie's even thinking of going back to school in a year or so, finishing her degree and going to law school…" He paused, pulling something else out of his pocket, a small dusty blue box, one he thought he'd never need again. "Can I tell you a secret?" He opened the box, a small diamond ring shining back at him, a ring he'd spent countless hours presiding over months ago, worried that it wouldn't be perfect. "I'm going to ask Maddie to marry me soon. Not yet, but soon… I was going to a.. a… while ago, but well, I never got round to it…" His smile faltered as he remembered that horrible, fretful day in the hospital. "You think she'll say yes?" He couldn't be sure, but he could've sworn he'd heard Sam's voice whisper in his ear…_Of course she will, you know it… she loves you…_ "You never know, in a few years time, we could be the Winchester family, a trainee lawyer and a fire-fighter, with not a demon in sight. Wouldn't that be something?"

Sighing, he put the ring and bag of M&Ms back into his pocket and stood up, brushing the dirt from the seat of his jeans. "Sorry Sammy, but I've got to go… bet you'll be glad to see the back of me!" He laughed, the tears brimming in his eyes again as he turned to walk away. "You know when I said I'd be the one to bury you? Well I never meant it, Sam, I never wanted it to be true… But here we are, I'm alive and you're down there, just doesn't seem fair does it?" He shut his eyes, aware of the tears slowly spilling his cheeks yet unwilling to brush them away. "Remember that night back in the cabin, with the Demon? He was right, Sam… I _do_ need you, more than you ever needed me… I'm lost without you Sam, you and Dad…" He choked back a sob, biting back down on his lip again to resist crying out. "I just don't know what to do anymore, Sammy."

He looked expectantly down at his brother, waiting for an answer that he thought would never come. _Have you ever thought there's people now who need you more than ever? Maddie, baby Sammy… they need you, and they always will… In time, you might even need them too… _Sam's voice echoed in his head, and although he knew it was simply the voice of his conscience finding some way to get it's views across, he really wanted to believe that this was how Sam felt. Sam had always been his voice of reason, _and maybe he always would… _Yeah, maybe he always will be… _You've been searching for ways to cling onto him, maybe this is your answer…_

At first he scoffed at the idea, but he knew that voice was right… the voice was _always_ right. That small, sensible side in him, the shy and retiring man he rarely was… that was Sam in a nutshell. He smiled, finally accepting that this was one way he and his brother would always stay in touch, a way in which Sam would always be alive… inside him. His conscience, that voice of reason and sense… maybe he hadn't lost his little brother after all.

Cheering a little, he wiped the tears from his face and took one last look at his brother's smiling and happy face. "Love you, Sammy… see you next week."

And as he turned away, walking back across the grass and gravel path, he could've sworn he'd heard _I love you too_ floating back to him on the wind.

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"Sam!" Dean gasped, sitting bolt upright in the bed, bathed in sweat with the bedcovers twisted around his torso.

"Dean?"

He looked down at his side into a pair of sleepy blue eyes, smiling gently as he brushed the hair from her face and lay back down next to her. He ran an appreciative eye over her body, pulling her too him, breathing in her familiar smell as he put his arms protectively around her. Most of her physical scars had now faded, but he knew the emotional ones were still eating away at her, haunting her every move. No matter how hard he tried to protect her from whatever life threw at her, he'd never be able to save her from herself.

"You have another nightmare?" He could hear the tiredness and sleep in her voice, feeling a twinge of guilt for waking her from the little sleep she managed to catch.

"Yeah."

"You okay?"

He didn't know how to answer this. How could he tell her that every time he woke up, he wished he was somewhere else? In a motel room somewhere, waking up to see that Sam was lying in the next bed, alive and healthy, ready for whatever demon would come their way. Then Sam's voice piped up in the back of his mind… _Stop thinking that, you know it won't come true… you need to move on Dean, get your life back…go be a fire-fighter, do what makes you happy… I'm not saying forget me, just realise that I'm never coming back…I'll forgive you for moving on Dean, in fact, I want you to…Just promise me that you'll be happy and look after that family of ours… _"I don't know, but I think I will be." He kissed Maddie gently on the forehead, sighing happily as he felt the weight of her head lying on his chest, the sound of her breathing soothing him in a way his never could.

Now closing his eyes, he pressed his head back against the pillow and mouthed a silent "I promise" to the room, smiling as the voice in his head gave it's nod of approval and finally lay silent.

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**The. End**.

So bizarre saying those words after spending so much time on this.

All i can say is that i hope you like this ending, as always, please let me know what you think! And i'm going to say a HUGE thank you to everyone who has read, reviewed and all of your support during this. It means more than i can say!

Thank you, so very much...

- Sarah


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